* I* 



A STORY OF MYSTICISM 



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ONDELL AND DOLEE 

A Story of Mysticism 


** BY 

JOSIAH GROSS 


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THE 


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THTUBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two COP»E 8 Received 

AUG, 4 1902 


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CLASS ^ XXc. No. 




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Copyright, 190a, 
by 

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TO MY FRIEND 


DR. JOSEPH L. BRUNET 















































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V 
























CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Wherein Doctor Tanton Torquay and Miss Do- 
leah Antieth have a quarrel and incidentally dis- 
cuss Ondell Urmoden 7 

II. Doleah and Philleo vent their ideas of fickle 

men, and Gerand introduces a novelty in fire- 
works 17 

III. Ondell Urmoden discusses metaphysics with 


Daltil Sondalere and indulges in personal history 28 

IV. Dolee and Philleo surprise the philosophers 
and after a glimpse of a nether world learn some- 
thing of the sinister arts of Sondalere . . -44 

V. Sondalere and Dolee ride together and the lat- 
ter by mental suggestion finds herself involved in 

another love affair 60 

VI. Ondell and an unseen force operate a telegraph 
and he concludes that he is the victim of a spirit- 
ual as well as of an amatory delusion . . . 71 

VII. Dolee becomes a prey to doubt and Ondell has 
occasion to berate himself for having too many 

problems to solve 80 

VIII. Philosophers at a barbecue run foul of a fool 

philosopher and thereby spoil their pleasure . 94 

IX. Sondalere and Dolee have another meeting and 
wind up their love affair with an elopement . 106 

X. Wherein Ondell and Philleo exchange confi- 
dences and the former gets startling news . .118 


6 


Contents. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XI. Tanton Torquay meets Eloine Terren, who has 
some wrongs wherewith to reproach him . . 132 

XII. Tanton and Gerand discuss sundry theories 

with some callousness and from the viewpoint of 
cynics 140 

XIII. After a year, three philosophers drink one 

another’s health with serious consequences . . 151 

XIV. An unpleasant interview between Torquay and 

Eloine, in which physical and emotional poisons 
are discussed 164 

'XV. Tanton Torquay tells Gerand of a murder trial 
and an uncomfortable situation for one of the wit- 
nesses 175 

XVI. Ondell aided by Philleo makes a successful run 

for liberty and subsequently meets a repentant sin- 
ner in a graveyard 188 

XVII. Ondell, in his disguise, has an interview with 

Tanton and then resumes his journey . . . 198 

XVIII. Gerand and Eloine ride together and meet Tan- 
ton, who is in bad humor and defies his enemies 209 

XIX. Eloine Terren considers the promises of Tanton 

and is much surprised to meet Ondell Urmoden 219 

XX. Ondell rides at midnight to the home of Dolee 

and quarrels with himself about the illusions of 
unconscious cerebration 230 

XXI. A mother’s premonition causes a desperate ride 

to the Mansion of a Thousand Stairs to witness a 
catastrophe 241 

- XXII. The catastrophe ends in the wreck of the Man- 
sion, the death of Tanton and a thrilling rescue by 
Eloine . « 249 

Epigraph . ..... . • . . 261 
















































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• V 













ONDELL AND DOLEE 


CHAPTER I. 

WHEREIN DOCTOR TANTON TORQUAY AND MISS DOLEAH 
ANTIETH HAVE A QUARREL AND INCIDENTALLY 
DISCUSS ONDELL URMODEN. 

In the shadow of fragrant trees, a forest of cupres- 
sus, of pellate cones and deep-hued leaf, by the massive 
oaks that joined the hickory in the deepening of the 
shade, rode Doleah Antieth, the belle of a modern Gas- 
cony. A ripple of song came from her lips, the scenes 
of evening, the orange tints of a dying sun, all as beau- 
tiful as some rarely tinted aquarelle, rested in the 
western sky, the shadows reached across the highway 
of deep red iron permeated soil and the pe'ace of a 
coming sleep had thrown its spell over the country. 

Hard behind, though hitherto unobserved by her, 
rode Tanton Torquay, the country doctor, a man not 
unpleasant to the senses, a man seemingly passion- 
hearted, though in a mild degree deep and peculiar in 
his manner. His was such a personality as appealed to 
the physical sense, his fascinations were several and his 
mind and his body seemed alike powerful and stealthily 
rapid in action and while one deeply skilled in charac- 
ter might fancy that he saw therein something sinister, 
yet to the average person he displayed a flattering geni- 


8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


ality and a winsomeness rare to the male twin of hu- 
manity. 

“Good evening, Miss Dolee, my dear little friend, 
your voice is like the honey dew of morning. As you 
sang so plaintively and so sadly you turned my heart 
to other days.” 

Quite surprised from her reverie, Dolee turned, part- 
ly in anger, to meet his unflinching eyes, as blue and 
as tender as the midday sky. 

“You are quite at home in the art of interruption, 
Doctor, the road is wide and I prefer this side of it to 
myself.” 

“Indeed! Then I shall be well content with the 
other side. May I ride in your vicinity-, — in your cir- 
cumjacency ?” 

To this she gave him no answer, but he smiled and 
maintained the farther side of the road. 

“Dolee, my dear friend,” he began after a while and 
with less of a taunt in his voice, “since my earliest rec- 
ollection, since fawning boyhood, I have known you 
but to admire you. And in other years I was foolish 
enough to believe that you cared for me a little, — that 
was in the days of nevermore. You will at least oblige 
me if you will put off that look of scorn and let an old- 
time warmth kindle your heart. Even though you have 
ceased to love me, — I love you, — I love you.” 

“You are the personification of conceited impudence. 
Ride on and do not speak to me. We have of love and 
friendship taken leave and not again, by any working 
of your subtle arts, can you weave again your web of 
flattery around my trustful heart.” 


Tanton and Dolee Quarrel. 


9 


“Oh, my, — is it that bad?” he asked with a slight ac- 
cent of disdain. 

'‘Yes, — you are well known here and your qualifica- 
tions have ceased to commend themselves to me, so let 
that be the end of it.” 

“Good! Then I am not needed in your business. 
You are a bright girl, Dolee, and as sweet as a peach! 
Oh, my, yes!” And Tanton smirked with satisfaction 
at his sally. 

“Leave me, Doctor Tanton !” 

“With regret. With regret. But why may we not 
talk, since we ride the same road ? It will be company 
for both, assuredly for me.” 

“We shall inevitably quarrel, Doctor Tanton, so ride 
on and let me see how swift a steed you support.” 

“Rather no. I am not interested in having you care 
for me in that way. Let us quarrel then in the good 
old-fashioned way, I want to tell you something about 
your latest amatory acquisition, our mutual horror, On- 
dell Urmoden.” 

“I will not hear it.” 

“Yes, you will,” he replied, impudently stubborn, for 
he was not easily put down and his serene composure 
was by this time more or less ruffled. It was a fault 
with Tanton, that he soon became, in every bout, what 
is popularly known as “rattled.” 

“Dolee !” he commanded in a tone so fierce that she 
was for a moment startled, since she was easily sub- 
jective to the art of awakening tragic emotion. “You 
shall carry in your heart to the end of your days, the 
image of my face. I have known the bondage of your 


IO 


Ondell and Dolee. 


love and not all of its sunshine has departed from me. 
Once, — in the frosts of an autumn there came a sad de- 
flection in our souls, and ” 

'‘Your dear soul, — how it worries you. Bah, Tanton 
Torquay of Gascony, how humorously you put it.” 

“I declare, yes. But, — no matter. Divinest Dolee, — I 
have never been made acquainted with the wherefore 
of your actions. Would you be gracious enough, — in 
your natural kindness of heart, — to enlighten me, so 
that my heart as well as my honor may be satisfied?” 

Dolee laughed as she looked at him across the road. 
Then she was silent and then laughed again. 

“Laughing at my honor, I suppose? I can read your 
thoughts- because I know your style. You think men 
have no honor, — not natural to them. Come now and 
enlighten my heart, — honor or no honor.” 

“Your honor has never been burnt at the stake, Tan- 
ton Torquay, and you need not ask me why I have no 
regard for you. You know.” 

“Really, — I am at your service. Since you insist that 
I know, I cannot question the assertion of a lady. But, — 
but, — of course, that particular cell colony has gone to 
the bottom of the heap and while, of course, I know, 
I am not conscious of all that I do know,, just at this 
moment. Would you mind refreshing me, — let me see, 
— just precisely how did it all happen?” 

“You are absolutely unique in your impudence. One 
must admire that at least. Could you possibly awaken 
to the memory, — after an intervening year, — that once 
upon a day I gave you a promise of marriage?” Dolee 
laughed bitterly as she said this. 


Tanton and Dolee Quarrel. u 

“Ah, yes, — yes. An inimitable bit of coquetry, no 
doubt.” 

“Indeed not. I was younger then and I was sin- 
cere. I was foolish enough to be sincere. It gives me 
headache to think of it now.” 

“Yes, it must be distressing. And so much your own 
fault too. I was as honest with you as I could be. I 
was never in my life so honest about anything.” 

“A severe spasmodic symptom, as doctors will say, 
I must confess to an admiration of your wit.” 

“Please don’t mention it, — though I adore the keen 
penetration of your genial humor, my little lady, — and 
as you are a lady, I cannot question, — I was honest 
with you.” 

“Yes, you were an idle boy then, a country swain 
blessed with a shock head, an empty brain and several 
Reuben-like attributes. I was an innocent girl and in 
my innocence I gave you my heart and lived to regret 
it.” 

“We are not so, — how was that? Oh, yes, — Reuben 
like and innocent now, are we?” 

“No, thank God, we are riper now. I gave you a 
pearl fairer than adorned any lace, that you shall ever 
again behold and you threw it, like a worthless pebble 
into the Bourbese. Then you wandered into the court- 
yards of the great cities and filled your head with learn- 
ing and with sin. You fell into the ways of women 
and passed your tiny heart around. You loved them 
all and when fate was good enough to put one of your 
soilings into my way, — indeed, — it was truly from 
Eloine Terren that I learned of the ways of my hith- 
erto adorable Tanton. Bah, — it is a tiresome business.” 


12 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Yes, he turned out badly, — poor fellow// sighed the 
doctor with one of his matchless bits of irony that was 
yet devoid of offense. It was not easy to get away 
from one as insinuating as Doctor Torquay; he stuck 
to you as with tendrils and usually not unpleasantly. 
But he could be like the fish that empties its ink into 
the sea, making all his surroundings black and send- 
ing the other denizens coughing and scurrying off to a 
clearer aquasphere, — it all depended when and where 
the mood took him. 

“Then you came home to empty out the glitter of 
your brain, for heart and soul you had none. I re- 
member that your love letters were well edited, — I read 
in them words of intense, sacred foolery, — in fact, — as 
I remember, — there were two of a kind, as intense as a 
hypocrite could make them, — they might have been let- 
ter press copies, one for me and the other for Eloine, — 
that was the level upon which you had the impudence to 
put me. You might, at least, have had the considera- 
tion or taken the time and trouble to have written two 
distinct letters/’ and she laughed bitterly, for indeed, 
of all her memories, this was the most unpalatable of 
alb 

“Then I am to infer, that yours was merely a case 
of wounded vanity because you did not get an wholly 
original piece of literature from me. Had I only 
known that !” 

Dolee was stung by this and for a moment lost her 
equipose, which was ordinarily above the average. 

Note. — Aquasphere. The water sphere in which a fish lives. 


Tanton and Dolee Quarrel. 13 

“You are a serpent and I heed you as I would a ser- 
pent !” 

He looked at her with well-feigned surprise. “My 
dear Dolee ” 

“Don’t dare to repeat it !” she retorted fiercely, and 
for the succeeding moment or two, he was impassively 
silent. 

“Ah, well,” he said finally, with a sigh, that for 
perfect acting was cast upon far too narrow a stage. 
“Then it is beyond our words. Since what I say can- 
not avail to clear away the deep set doubts that fill your 
troubled hours, neither can what I hear from you ease 
the pain I feel. Of course, I have my faults and I 
have made mistakes, but you will hardly expect me to 
be an angel until sometime after my death, — will you ?” 
From the sigh of an apparently utter despair, this facile 
man had through the mirror of a few words looked into 
the merry world of mirth, — laughing softly as if to fur- 
ther exasperate his unwilling companion. 

“I do not relish this trifling, and unless you see fit 
to ride on, I shall turn back. You are taking advant- 
age of me to insult me and Mr. Urmoden will call you 
to account for this.” 

“That cowardly shrimp! I beg your pardon. That 
I retract, — that, I did not mean to say. But let me tell 
you, — since you speak of him and though, after a fash- 
ion, I respect him, — this man Urmoden is a strange set 
man for one of his years. His nature is too cold and 
deep for you, Miss Dolee.” 

“Yes, perhaps. But he is not like you, — cold, vin- 
dictive and desperate. There is a difference.” 


H 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Oh, yes, decidedly so. I am frank, open hearted, 
self contained if you will, but this man has a scowling 
face like an Indian, he is taciturn, gloomy, savage, — a 
mental cannibal, — that is his nature. He is as dumpy as 
his gloomy vaults, where they say the ghosts of ancient 
men keep house. His jaws set hard, as though his teeth 
have need of the strengthening, such as hard pres- 
sure gives. But I mean no disparagement upon all 
that. I mean that his mind is curved, that is, that his 
thoughts are not straight out, — crooked, dishonest, if 
you will, — I notice that you were about to put the ques- 
tion, so I answer it. You see, my intuition is in prime 
condition. I know him long and well, — better than you 
can ever know him, — I meet him on the same level, — 
though I confess that it is difficult for one to know 
these alchemists, who fancy that they dabble into magic 
of all colors. Pshaw ! here is a man who dreams by day 
and in the stretches of the night woos up, by incanta- 
tions of harmony, the shades of the silent world, — a 
dabbler into devachan, — a glorious husband that !” 

To this strange speech, Doleah Antieth had given at- 
tention, for it was rife in the neighborhood that Ondell 
was more than mysterious in his habits. He lived 
alone and in so queer a habitation and he was so un- 
duly mirthful over the whole of their gentle accusa- 
tions that the country folk were sure that if there was 
witchcraft anywhere that it was at the Mansion of a 
Thousand Stairs. 

“You believe that he loves you,” continued the ir- 
repressible Tanton, determined to empty out his spleen 
despite the drawback of an unwilling and unsympa- 


Tanton and Dolee Quarrel. 15 

thetic listener, “pshaw, that man has other loves, — loves 
that chain the imagination and have enduring charms, 
— they never fade as you may fade/’ and Tanton looked 
at her so hard that even across the road in the shades 
of bright evening she fancied that he looked through 
her and pointed out each charm that would in time 
fade and named the hour when he would rejoice at the 
fleeting wantonness of all things that are, her cheeks 
tingled under his searching eye, — his cold, beefy, blue 
eye that had a knowledge of sensual things beyond the 
ordinary. 

“You are wasting precious forces, you are a dupe 
to your fond hopes ” 

“As once before? Why not have added that?” she 
asked tauntingly, and the word flew into the heart of 
a guilty conscience. Tanton was ready for more, after 
a moment's pause. 

“Let me warn you, — beware, — there is a devil lurk- 
ing there.” 

“Begone, you idle hypocrite. I hate you for your 
double dealing. You stab men and women in the 
dense groves, in the hour when the cloud hangs before 
the moon ; you are too cowardly to go to Ondell and 
tell him that,— there is a man for you !” 

“Oh, yes, you may boast of him, but he is not dan- 
gerous; not in the least. When I get through with 
him, he will be like the kite that has wound up its ca- 
reer in a tree top.” 

“On the contrary, my braggart, you will bait the 
minnows at the bottom of the Bourbese, and if you 


i6 


Ondell and Dolee. 


value the entirety of your anatomy, I advise you to 
keep your delicate hands from Ondell,” 

“Oh, thank you ever so much. But, in truth, I have 
had so much advice in my time, and that which has cost 
me so much cash, and which I valued at the time more 
than I do this, that I shall follow my own ideas about 
that.” 

“You are a coward and a cur! Thank God, here 
comes my boy, — just crazy enough to kill you some 
time.” 

“Hah! You may chide me and call me cur and 
hypocrite, and make valentines of my hopes, — I am 
not the man to loose my tempering. But I will oblige 
you to the extent of parting from you now. I love 
you for your charming disdain, and I shall not fail to 
be around handily at the altar of my adoration. In- 
form your friend, Sir Ondell, that I am his rival.” 
With a merry laugh, he cantered on leisurely, appar- 
ently not caring to bid the time with Philleo, the man 
servant of Dolee, and, possibly, he was of the opinion 
that three would be a crowd. For some reason Tan- 
ton did not like the rough-hewn Philleo, though in 
truth, the latter was, most of the time, as harmless a 
man as lived. He was not given to intellectual per- 
spicacity, but there was neither mildew nor molasses on 
his wit. He was a rough-and-tumble sort of a fellow, 
good at a knockdown and dragout, and at the country 
dances played the fiddle all night execrably. But his 
fellows took care not to comment upon his musical 
vagaries in his hearing for fear that a paling might fly 
off the fence and rap them on the pate. 


CHAPTER II. 


DOLEAH AND PHILLEO VENT THEIR IDEAS OF FICKLE 
MEN, AND GERAND INTRODUCES A NOVELTY IN 
FIREWORKS. 

“I am glad you came. Tanton is so tiresome these 
days,” said Dolee, “he has been abusing Ondell shame- 
fully.” 

“Why, blarst his hide, shall I ride him down for 
you ?” 

“Oh, no; Pm glad to be rid of him.” 

“He showed heel dust when I come round.” 

“Was that it?” Dolee laughed, as she always did at 
Philleo. 

“Pm prophet enough to feel round me, sometimes, 
what’s er goin’ to happen, — like them thar dogs do 
what live in the earthquake countries, — that’s a bad 
man; he isn’t fur from the bad place right now, — Pm 
here to tell you, — and Mister Ondell best to keep his 
light blazin’ round him.” 

“You’re a fool forever strutting on the earth. You 
need to be squelched.” 

“Gee whizzus ! Here’s whar I git it in the car- 
buncle neighborhood. Say, you’re not mad, are you ?” 
he asked, after a moment, when the rebuke had passed 
from his evanescent nature. 


i8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Yes, I am cross with all the world this evening. 
I declare I do believe that all men are hypocrites.” 

“Yessem, all hypocrites are men, jest as you said 
they was.” 

Dolee smiled in despite of her moodiness and for 
several moments Philleo rode along in profound medi- 
tation. 

“No, I didn’t git that out right, Miss Dolee ; let me 
see, I know I’m no hypocrite and I’m a man.” 

“And a poor excuse, too.” 

“Wall, that’s better’n bein’ a wommern. No, no, 
no, I didn’t mean that; I mean it’s better to be a 
nobody-man than to be a man’s nobody.” 

“By which you might mean me?” she laughed. 

“Oh, no, no, I didn’t git it out right that time, 
nuther. I mean it’s better to be a nobody’s nobody 
than to be somebody’s man ; no, that might mean me. 
I think I mean that it’s better to be a nobody’s some- 
body ” 

“Of course that would mean you,” she said merrily. 

“Oh, yes, that must mean me,” but Philleo was not 
out of the puzzle garden, — he had an idea of some 
kind which had tangled itself hopelessly in his mental 
lariat. 

Dolee pursued her own thoughts. “Can it be pos- 
sible? It seems of late that my lover has much pre- 
occupation; he thinks of things far off and not of me. 
How well I remember his former gaiety, especially 
that day when he fell out of the mulberry tree and 
almost hit me in his coming. How he lay on the green 
sward, half ashamed, and how keenly handsome he 


Dolee Has Doubts. 


19 


appeared to be then. He has become morose and re- 
gretful, it seems. He wants interest and enthusiasm. 
He is like a ship that has gotten into a still wind in the 
middle of the sea. As for the tale told me by that ser- 
pent, such as this was heard once in Paradise; that 
is, if ancient stories are not ancient, — well, no matter, 
he is but a sorry tempter. Yet for myself, I feel dis- 
satisfaction, my feelings bring me pain and anxiety. 
Am I doomed to love in vain? Shall I have a repe- 
tition of a former sorrow? Am I not fair? Not true? 
Who is this man that would make a fool of me?” She 
had painful memories and her jerky thoughts were 
cross-grained, — for she had felt bitterness, — and doubt 
was not without its reasons for being. Her knowledge 
of human nature was limited too, by a few tokens she 
tried to interpret many mysteries, and consequently 
she fell into much error. “Pshaw,” she said, half 
laughing aloud, “one would think that my father kept 
a notice on the gate that he had a marriageable daugh- 
ter in the house, and that all are welcome.” Yet 
without having an unchaste imagination, she had 
doubts, and she exercised a natural right in studying 
the problem so important to all women. 

“It’s gettin’ dark, Miss Dolee,” said Philleo. 

“Well, what then?” 

“I don’t like it to get dark ’round me; this wild 
country is full of ghosts, and people has been robbed 
’long this road.” 

“You are a coward, Philleo.” 

“In some things, yes.” 


20 


Ondell and Dolee. 


"We’re going up to Thousand Stair to-night, 
Philleo.” 

Her servant gave the characteristic low whistle 
of surprise. "Don’t scare a fellow like that. My face 
is gettin’ wrinkly, ennyhow. You’re not shore enough 
in earnest?” 

"Yes, indeed. I* am in much doubt of heart, and 
cannot brook the idle hours that pass along so slum- 
b^ r ously. Tanton told me something that I cannot 
get away from.” 

"Oh, you mustn’t mind him, Miss Dolee.” 

"I cannot help it. He told me that Ondell was mak- 
ing a fool of me, and I have a fancy to see him to-night 
and read his mind. If he loves me not ” 

"Oh, he loves you, — don’t worry, don’t fret, — who 
wouldn’t love you?” 

"I will know that. I have been close to the fire, 
and before I get into another ” 

"Yes, I do declare, you was shorely burnt at the 
stake by that feller Tanton.” 

"And you are quite imprudent, — quite so. It’s none 
of your business.” 

"Well, all right, it’s none of my business. But them 
ghosts up there is a whole lot of my business. If they 
gets me, you’re not comm’ to my infair. I’m glad I 
got my gun, annyway.” 

"You’d forget it if you ever got where you’d really 
need it. You boys who carry guns to picnics, to rear 
around with and pretend that you are bad men, are not 
dangerous.” 

"Well, now, don’t never gamble on that thar proper- 


Dolee Has Doubts. 


21 


sition. I tell you, Miss Dolee, if you ever get into a 
hoss trade of that kind, you’ll find the world full of 
deceit. I may be harmless, but Til bear watchin’ some- 
times.” 

“You are afraid to go with me because it is dark. 
I suppose that if you really saw a ghost, we’d bury 
you the next day.” 

“Well, all right; if I must, then I go. An’ if you’ll 
take the lead a goin’, I’ll be shore to take it a cornin’ 
back.” 

Dolee was delicately sensitive to her surroundings 
and ever a prey to her imaginings and vague emotions. 
Almost a tear drop stood in each eye, but she resolutely 
held them back. She was not indifferent to the charm 
of the great passion, and some innate vanity made her 
spirit rebel at the possible thought that she was not 
sufficiently beautiful and fascinating to win the heart 
of man into abject adoration. Perhaps she asked too 
much. Yet there was no denying her wealth of attrac- 
tion, that she knew. And many another one thought, 
too, that there was a deep, hallowed soul beneath those 
attractions, and the commonplace seemed to stand in 
awe before her, so that many a countryman sighed and 
dismissed the possibility as something too rich for his 
blood. Dolee meant to be honest in every feeling; cir- 
cumstances only, and apparently those over which she 
had no control, had made her doubtful, — indifferent 
and at times unapproachable. Her experience with 
Tanton had been greatly unpleasant ; she had, in 
youthful ardor, admired this man, and built upon his 
promises the castles that all maidens will rear, — and 


22 


Ondell and Dolee. 


she imagined herself as mistress therein, a loved wife 
and the heart's fond desire, — alas, how rudely the 
entrancement had, like a falling frame, broken into bits 
before her. 

Drifting clouds, like errant ghosts into infinity, passed 
slowly downward with the fading of the vernal sun, 
into an oppressive silence. The hard stepping of the 
fiery horses seemed to be the only thing that saved her 
from the depths of reverie. Darkness now brooded 
over the distant hills, where slept the daisy and the 
clover, that had come, earliest of all, to welcome the 
tardy spring, — a brook flowed evermore down hill and 
dale, — here, she had often rode alone in other years, 
in the days, when, even as unto herself, an invisible 
hand touched every living thing and spurned it to 
brood and bloom into beauty, — here, she had watched 
the spring steal on the summer unaware, — here, passed 
before her, green spring, golden summer, red autumn 
and ghastly winter, for twenty and two years and it 
was now time that she turn from bloom and growth 
and hopes and longings, into a life of reality and of 
life’s fruition. Ondell, — he must not be permitted to 
deceive her, if he but presumed, however slightly, up- 
on such a thing, she would, at once, cast him from 
her, — for indeed, there were others. She need not 
worry with doubtful, distant men, others demanded 
her, — though, perhaps, they appeared not to be so high 
born and noble limbed, yet, possibly, as good and in 
the sum total as desirable as their more pretentious 
fellows. Such were her thoughts as she rode along the 
woodland, on the red highway, by the brook that flowed 


Dolee Has Doubts. 


23 


evermore down hill and dale. They were secret 
thoughts, such as never, by any hint, beheld the light 
of day, — had any one, in tenderest intimacy, asked her 
if she ever had such thoughts as these, she would have 
tossed off the query as an impertinence. 

Thousand Stair Mansion was silhouetted in the dis- 
tance, its beacon lamp shone out upon the valley from 
the high hill whereon the house stood, a curious pile 
of masonry and a scene of silence and of desolation. 
Not even the contiguity of cultivated fields or the win- 
dow lights of far off neighboring houses added anima- 
tion to the scene, with evidences of civilization on 
every hand, the place yet seeme4 to stand in the deso- 
lation of the forests of a primeval age, such was the 
peculiar effect of the ensemble of hills, valleys and 
streams of the country, a likely place for the haunts 
of wild men of the forests in the days of the aborigine. 
It was lonely there and the mansion of a Thousand 
Stairs was a veritable temple of silence. Deeper the 
crimson suffused the skies and now the forests were 
hung with draperies of twilight. There was a shadow 
on the high hill where the forbidding mansion stood 
and Philleo instinctively shrunk from the gloomy 
places. He had rather face anything than this man- 
sion. His mind had been, since his earliest childhood 
instilled with superstition, uncanny things occurred 
there, — it was reputed that strange forms hovered about 
and cast stones at the hill where the mansion stood, — 
stones that seemed to appear mysteriously in the sky, 
having 1 come from, — nobody knew where, and the 
Methodist minister who had gone there, once upon an 


24 


Ondell and Dolee. 


evening, to pray with the devil, had, while kneeling 
upon a rock and in the full moonlight, where it was 
possible to see any one that might have been lurking 
about, been soundly laid out with so unholy a thing 
as a wooden shoe, which reached him in the small of 
the back. 

The hoot of the owl was heard there, when the 
singers of the wood were hushed and the flowers had 
folded from the dew. The air of the Quiogozon was 
ever there. And it was a curious story that they told. 
This hill, they said, — who loved to gather by the fire- 
side and spin yarns, — was hollowed out by a vast cav- 
ern and that in the days of long ago, the Indians or 
the Mound Builders, used it as a temple or a charnel 
house and some even declared that a wandering re- 
bellious branch of the sun worshipping Natchez had 
maintained here their perpetual fires and that, in imi- 
tation of them, Doctor Urmoden kept his light burn- 
ing also. 

Herein reposed the partial excications of this former 
race. The opening of this cave was directly to the top 
of the hill, an aperture, some thirty feet in diameter, 
descending obliquely into the earth and opening into 
a vast cave as if it were the cone of a volcano. But 
such it was not. The opening to the top of the hill 
had probably been formed by a cave-in of a weak part 
of the cavern's dome and when Urmoden the elder 
discovered the place, he became fascinated with it, be- 
cause it so well represented his insanely gloomy nature. 


Note. — Quiogozon. Indian term for burial vault. 


Dolee Has Doubts. 


25 


He had built over this aperture, with solid founda- 
tions, the mansion of a Thousand Stairs, built it of 
the white limestone with which the country abounded 
and his house had the appearance of beauty and majes- 
ty. But time yellowed the whiteness of the stone and 
the moss grew and the vine hung around and so it was 
that the sombreness of the tomb had come over it all. 

When Doctor Urmoden came to this country with 
his band of laborers, no one looked on, other than the 
autochton of the forest. These natives did not relish 
Urmoden and their dislike took such a form, that they 
gathered themselves together and moved to the West. 
They even entertained the idea of a massacre, but 
something of that feeling that inspired the succeeding 
white settlers, got into the consciousness of the na- 
tive and he wished not to go up against it, — whatever 
it was, — so he moved. 

When the house was built, the doctor had the work- 
men build a stairway down into the cavern and it was 
said by those who had never counted them, that there 
were a thousand of the steps and that from this the 
house was named, as a fact though, there were less 
than a hundred of them and the name had been given 
by the people themselves, — Urmoden cared not what 
they called his house. 

What was the influence? Among the mysteries of 
the world, that will be one of them, the hand and the 
power of the dead, their influence upon the living, the 
swiftly moving of humanity towards another and more 
ancient family, in another state of existence, by which 
union shall come and wisdom multiply upon the earth, 


26 


Ondell and Dolee. 


the dawning of the new cycle, with its splendid mys- 
teries of discovery, and here, the silent, gloomy Urmo- 
den, — one of several of the advance heralds of a new 
dispensation, — where the evil of the living and the 
evil that is locked in death, shall be unloosened and re- 
deemed and purified, — here, he lived his life and gave 
to the world a son that moved in a diametrically oppo- 
site direction to that of his own, — such appears to be 
ever the incongruity of evolution. 

It was bruited about, in the contemporary history 
of this country, that Gerand was some sort of a ban- 
dit, at least a wild, reckless fellow with an inquisitive 
nose and a drooping, reddish mustache. It was told 
sub rosa that he had once driven off by the light of 
the milky way, a team of mules belonging to a richer 
neighbor and had sold them forty miles beyond the 
territory. The mules were returned, after several legal 
processes, but Gerand was not successfully identified 
with the surreptitious transaction. All this might have 
been unfair to a noble mind and a Christian disposition, 
but somehow, the people never took to Gerand’s hon- 
esty or hankered after emulating his ways. 

Now, whether, Gerand meant to frighten wild ani- 
mals to death by a new hunting scheme or to scare 
passers by into such a paralysis that they might be 
easily lightened of their wealth, or whether he merely 
meant sport after the fashion of the practical joker or 
as a further surmise, that possibly Tanton had pro- 
vided for and inspired the experiment, however it was, 
Gerand had drilled a hole into a white rock that lay by 
the road at the foot of the hill, the same, in fact, where 


Dolee Has Doubts. 


2; 


the minister and the wooden shoe came into contact 
some years previous to this, — and therein he had 
plugged up powder and provided a fuse. 

It is within the bounds of possibility that Gerand 
wanted some loose rock for next day’s uses and that 
his work had carried him into so late an hour that he 
had postponed the main thing until next day and that 
Tanton, aware of the fact that Dolee and Philleo rode 
after him, had ignited the fuse, — though it is unbelieva- 
ble that he was anxious for their destruction, it was 
not his fashion to kill what he wanted, he killed what- 
ever had desires on what he wanted, — therein he was 
not different from the usual run of criminals. He de- 
clared afterwards that he threw away the snipe of his 
cigar somewhere into the woods and that possibly it 
had fallen upon the fuse, at any rate, immediately after 
Philleo, lagging tardily behind Dolee, had passed the 
spot, there was a deafening roar that momentarily con- 
vinced him that the day of judgment had finally ar- 
rived. 

“Goll blame it!” he exclaimed in terror, “Gosh er 
mighty, we’re lost!” 

Dolee herself was terribly shocked and frightened 
and as she could not understand this and since possi- 
bly there might be more trouble in the same direction, 
she gave free rein to her horse and Philleo plunged 
madly after her. 


CHAPTER III. 


ONDELL URMODEN DISCUSSES METAPHYSICS WITH 
DALTIL SONDALERE AND INDULGES IN PERSONAL 
HISTORY. 

Ondell was a striking human curiosity and in much 
lesser degree, Sondalere was another. Apparently, 
these companions loved solitude and to delve into the 
mysteries of personality. They were not cranks, be- 
cause neither seriously believed in what they studied, 
they were investigators of phenomena and chronic 
doubters of all things. They displayed in high degree 
the bent of mind of modern investigators, that of mak- 
ing sport of the serious problems of life. Cabbage 
heads, tent shaped heads and heads that backed away 
in every direction from a common center, queer noses 
and oyster shell ears, nerve follies of every kind,— 
nothing was sacred to them. Ondell had an ingrained 
sarcasm and much of that fictitious wisdom that comes 
with understanding many things, which, in turn is apt 
to lead one's mind to believe that it understands all 
things and yet, his intellect was of the first order, — 
experience was, at his age, his greatest need. With 
Sondalere, it was a case of a big head being fuller 
than a large head and while conceit is often a good 
thing, he demonstrated to a nicety what self satisfied 
limitation could do for a man. Ondell, of more ma- 


Ondell and Sondalere. 


29 


jestic outline had, in some directions fitly taken the 
measurements of Sondalere and it pleased him to con- 
sider, that to know many things is pleasure, but to 
know nothing, after the standard of his friend, was 
an infinite delight. That was where his conceit un- 
dermined his perceptions, he underrated his friend. 
Both were young and Sondalere had the appearance 
of effeminacy but Ondell was of vigorous masculine 
type. This evening they sat together and when it be- 
come dark, they laid aside their cards and resumed 
their excavation of the wine jug until it was low tide 
therein. Under this influence, Ondell became more 
than ordinarily loquacious and it surprised Daltil when 
his austere and unemotional companion slapped him 
on the back and asked for a story. 

“I prefer to hear from you, Ondell,— you always in- 
terest me.” 

“Well, perhaps, sometimes I am interesting. Son- 
dalere, I have a friend or two, my heart requires no 
more and I am glad when they come. Here they find 
me lonely, a hermit, perhaps a scholar, — who has the 
audacity to dispute that?” He laughed good humor- 
edly. 

“Not I, I know that you are a scholar and a rare 
gentleman.” Ondell knew the speech of his servile 
and artful friend and he minded not his continuous 
flattery. 

“Here, the cup of peace brims over dolefully and 
with the unparalleled reputation of my house and so 
great a curiosity as myself and occasionally yourself, — 
I ought to chew the cud contentedly, ought I not?” 


30 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Yes, with the exception, however, that all this is 
not calculated to bring you out socially/' The flatter- 
er seemed verily to be in a mood of gentle reproach- 
fulness, “you will be ostracised because of the repu- 
tation of your house." 

“I have not heretofore noticed it. Ostracised? 
Come now, a good jest." 

“Really, the talk that goes among the gossips that 
the souls of the dead come here to enact again an hour 
on earth, is hurting you, this talk of dim wraiths and 
thin shells of men that are reputed to walk up and 
down this hill at midnight does you harm with simple 
folks. A haunted house is a poor recommendation for 
so fine a gentleman." 

“Do you ever see these alleged men in your mid- 
night rambles, friend Sondalere? It is bad form, then 
is it, to strike up telephone connections with the here- 
after ? Supposing that it is not true, — not a bit of it ? 
Spook hunters are always finding what they look for, 
I never hunt any and I know nothing of it. These 
idle reports amount to nothing and I do not care what 
they say." Ondell laughed at it. 

“Come now, you know more than you care to tell. 
Your easy manner of throwing off these accusations 
only tends to fastens them upon you. You are accused 
of witchcraft and if you had lived a hundred years 
ago your ears would have been cut off and your tongue 
slit." 

“And you?" 

“Same case, of course. Mind you, I do not accuse 


Ondell and Sondalere. 31 

you of having souls in cold storage, I am telling you 
what the public says of you.” 

“Yes, give a decent old fellow with a good reputa- 
tion several bad sons-in-law and it will not be long 
until the old fellow has lost his also. Such is life, — 
but the modern beatitude is, blessed is he that don’t 
care a snap.” 

“I do not jest, I am your friend and want you to 
put yourself right before the people.” 

“Yarrem ! One would suppose that I was running 
for county collector!” 

“No. But you ought to do something to dispel this 
foolish mystery.” 

“Oh well, life is short and hades is near, I shall not 
go about with an accordion pleat between my brows 
because of worry over a riddle, these alleged ghosts 
are curiosities, I look upon them as mind freaks and 
of my own mind at that, I do not believe them other 
than that they are hallucinations, why then should I 
trouble myself about them?” 

“Honestly?” 

“Well of course. I admit that I see strange things, 
just as one does that is saturated with alcohol. His is 
intemperance, mine is a nervous malady. No man 
whose organism is normal ever sees spooks. The ner- 
vous and sexually diseased are the only ones. Oh, I 
have thought it all out, there is nothing in it. When 
I see the insubstantial thing that calls itself my fath- 
er, — as you, or any one might have a dream, I am sur- 
prised at the intensity of my waking dreams, — merely 
that. It is a phenomena to be asleep on one side or 


32 


Ondell and Dolee. 


the other, with both eyes open and to be able to have 
dreams and realities transpiring before you at the same 
moment, but it is merely a phenomena. When I wake 
up dead some day, then it will be time to believe in the 
reality of this thing. But not yet.” 

“I scarcely agree with you. I have not seen these 
wonders of an unconscious cerebration, but I have an 
innate, superstition that there is form beyond this life 
and I know that it must be a law that going hence 
means coming back, — if not, why not?” 

‘‘Same old question. How the devil do I know?” 

“Then you are not to be persuaded on the kama- 
rupa question?” 

“See here, friend Sondalere, I have strayed into the 
world’s large stableyard and fortune has made of me 
a bloated broomholder, my eyes have become accus- 
tomed to the darkness of the world and while I am 
willing to conduct a scientific experiment, I am not 
inclined to speculate one particle about the Mystic 
Hence until I pull up on that cloudy shore. One day, 
my imagination conjured up a lovely female, to whose 
entrancing proportions, Nanon was a briarwood knot 
and she declared unto me that she lived in one of the 
loveliest places of the unknown world and that she 
had forsaken it all because she loved me and wished 
to be my guide. I said to her, — dream that thou art 
and vision of loveliest form, such that the soul sees 
but crude flesh can never attain, — because, in my vision 


Note. — Kamarupa. The alleged spirit-animal disembodi- 
ment of man. 


Ondell and Sondalere. 


33 


I can see thee in greater perfection than ever in life, 
I must believe that the beautiful soul lives somewhere 
else than in the imperfection of the body, but begone, 
until the sufficient day has ended for me. That was 
a pleasant dream, eh?” 

“Yea, and calls for another glass.” 

“Bah, the jug is empty. Strike a match to the gas 
and I will see where the cider bottles are.” 

“Never mind, we have had enough. Did I under- 
stand you to say that you believed in a hereafter for 
the soul, because you saw things more perfectly in 
dreams than in reality ? Do you fancy that successive 
reincarnations would ultimately attain the perfection 
you beheld in your dreams in the physical itself?” 

“Reincarnation is a veritable Calm of Life. But I 
do sometimes get serious on this head. The grain of 
wheat returns again and again, why not the ego ? But 
there are objections. If the vessel goes amiss and the 
intending reincarnator is thrown out of a half formed 
body after months of anxious effort, just think of the 
time and opportunity lost. If a spirit anxious to re- 
turn, choose a young medium of reimbodiment and 
that person refused to bear young, it would seem that 
the ways of reincarnation might be unpleasant and dis- 
appointing. Oh, I have thought it all out, there is 
really nothing certain but this homo brutalis. That is 
all we get out of it as far as I can see. What I be- 
lieve is all moonshine.” 

“It is unprofitable at times to wade into meta- 
physics, but the wine and the surroundings are con- 


34 Ondell and Dolee. 

ducive to a spiritual reverie. I feel * what they call 
influences.” 

“I feel that often. It is a mild hysteromania of the 
brain and a little too much of it is known as genius. 
It is an hypnagogic condition, — an aura, — an impon- 
derable matter like an atmosphere of the body, the es- 
sence of physical force, but when you understand it, 
it is simple enough.” 

“You are too etherially practical. I fancy that you 
are irreverent towards this wonderful instrument of 
ours.” 

“You have an exalted opinion of it, so have I, but 
mine is mechanical. Had I the making of it I would 
grow a horn over the points where the pressure of a 
button might give one hysteria. Then we would be 
less likely to have so many cranks on the spirit ques- 
tion. My father used to drum me full of it, but I 
think he got a shot once through the groin and that, 
after that, there was a good deal the matter with his 
spirit. Oh, I’ve thought it all out and I fancy I have 
gotten to bed rock. This feeling of influences is an 
epileptic aura, a current rises from some part of the 
body, the nerve forces get mixed or turned around 
and then the local motor sytem goes on a strike. I 
want to talk of something else, this is too simple. There 
is something radically wrong in this house, — here I 
am, young, strong, full of vril and able to battle with 
the world and yet I am rich, idle, side tracked, a 
recluse, a monk and by gosh, I-m a fool too.” 

“Well? Then why not wed a luscious lass and from . 
these gloomy halls draw down the cobwebs of its deso- 


Ondell and Sondalere. 


35 


lation? This were a palace for a prince, wherein a 
wife might find it well to fill each nook and corner and 
make the place look bountiful; ” 

“Yes, yes, my good friend, I may do that. You en- 
courage? A drink on that! Just so, when I have an 
enthusiastic subject to get drunk over, the jug is emp- 
ty. I will get another jug at once.” 

“Yes, this is relishing. Here then, I drink to the 
future Mistress Urmoden whoever she may be!” 

“And wherever she may roam!” 

“And wherever she may roam!” repeated Sonda- 
lere. 

“A light brunette with mellow eyes that peep through 
the long curving lashes, two lips drawn daintly, — a 
despair of the limner's art, a head with raven hair that 
flows wavingly, a tenderness in the eye, my boy, soft 
cheeks that in the ripple have a heart fetching dimple, 
a nose as the crow flies, a brow finely arching and not 
indefinite, I like that sort of a girl, don't you?” 

“Splendid. Only the man that went up against 
Gibraltar could tell it in that way!” 

“Well then, I'm the man that went up against Gibral- 
tar. So this would make a palace for a queen, would 
it? Hah, — a delightful thought!” 

“Yes, and speaking of it, reminds me. You have 
promised me often the story of this mysterious place, 
this will be a good time to uncork a fable.” 

Ondell laughed in his unemotional fashion, that 
which was a deceiving art, for under the frigid cal- 
lousness of his exterior, beat a great and noble heart, 
that had the courage to dare all things for the good 


36 


Ondell and Dolee. 


of the helpless, in very truth he had the childishness 
that goes with big heartedness and in companionship 
with brains that stand on the imperial heights of hu- 
man majesty. Sondalere was his friend. The two 
had studied together at the University. They were 
mystics and had of late delved deeply into the secrets 
of hypnosis until the latter had become an adept. On- 
dell, being electric and non-magnetic could develop 
nothing of odyllic forces, but the genial and warm Son- 
dalere could, at least, put the cat to sleep by winking 
at her. Ondell lived in a country that was rapidly 
building up. In his father’s time it was a wilderness, 
but many men had come there and touched the forests 
and they fell, the sleeping sod teemed with wealth of 
produce, the Indian felt that the blight of death en- 
shrouded his hunting grounds, the trees seemed to 
wither, a pestilence fell upon the wild children and 
they stretched by the cool brooks that flowed evermore 
down hill and dale and their lives went out. 

Then came the lowland people and with the wand 
of ceaseless industry houses rose and gardens bloomed, 
where but shortly before, nothing broke the silence of 
the game haunted wildernesses, here they builded and 
bred and multiplied, perhaps to reincarnate the souls 
of the Indians, for one fancied, at times, that these 
Americans were not else than Indians under the mask 
of a white skin and a slightly gentler disposition. These 
people became wealthy and important, the Torquays, 
the Sondalere’s, the Antieth’s, even Carlton Philleo the 
elder, became prominent families, Champion City, 
though only a village, dreamed of future greatness 


Ondell and Sondalere. 


37 


when it took its name and all that was well known to 
Sondalere, — he was an intimate friend, the mood was 
upon him to-night, he would take him down into the 
Cavern and let him wrestle for a while with the con- 
ditions therein, which, to the matter of fact Ondell, 
seemed to be inducive to extraordinary delusions and 
nothing more. 

“Of course, I’ll tell you all about it. In the first 
place there is no mystery here, it is all humbug. There 
are no spirits here, I do not believe in such nonsense. 
My father was the strangest man that ever begat a 
son like me, he had his waking dreams and I have 
mine. He built thereon a real foundation, I do not. 
When he came here the Indian chief held ground. This 
had been his royal battling place. You might call 
it a kamaloka for Indians. My men have plowed up 
in the fields below bushels of arrows and battle axes, 
that had, in their day, gone through heads that the 
owners valued as much as we do ours and no doubt 
believed that they possessed something extra, that pos- 
sibly, an eternal divine essence dwelt therein, they were 
as foolish as the latter generation of wiser men. But 
at any rate their skulls were staved in and that ended 
it. I’m getting away from the story, Sondalere, the 
wine is misleading me. My father was, like your- 
self, a magnetic, attractive man and that is why I am 
so unmagnetic, he used it all up on himself. He in- 
spired one with a feeling that made you believe that 
he would do it, whatever it was, without compunc- 

Note. — Kamaloka. A locality suited to generate spiritual 
forces. 


3 § 


Ondell and Dolee. 


tion. The Indian kept his eye on that one touch of 
Satan and let the man alone. When my mother died 
that I might live, — really, a most useless sacrifice, it 
was then that my father’s nature changed, — so they 
tell me. When the clods fell upon her coffin, his heart 
went into the earth and his days were then in shadow 
lands. His soul and body dwelt apart, the tears were 
wont to trickle through his humor and we were exiles 
from human society, he by sorrow and I by inherit- 
ance. Here, I am as gloomy as my sire and a damn to 
the world, what say you ?” 

Sondalere was silent. 

“As a boy, I kept the lamp burning at the roof to 
light up the valley, it was company, I was not so lone- 
ly when I looked upon it, — some thing surely lived 
for me as, day after day, I grew up into the full flesh 
of ardent life and my father shrunk away and grew 
white in the fingers and pale in the cheek, — then at 
last I bore his remains into the cavern below this house, 
and in the Cavern Hall, the grandest tomb on the face 
of the earth, sleeps my father into slow and sure de- 
cay. I keep him there that my mind may linger on 
his features, I shall forget them when I can no longer 
see them, is it not so?” 

Sondalere was not prepared to answer the question. 
He was absorbed in the story and oppressed by a sense 
of uncanniness. Slowly and surely the creeping influ- 
ences of the tomb came upon his nerves and despite 
his energetic courage, his susceptibility was so acute 
that he, looked behind himself furtively, as if in ex- 
pectation of seeing some ghostly thing at his elbow. 


Ondell and Sondalere. 


39 


“You need not have fears of spooks, friend Sonda- 
lere, nor worry about the foundations of the house, 
my father looked to that. But there is an element of 
danger here. The beacon is fed by a pipe that leads 
into the farthest recesses of the cavern where gas wells 
up, gas that you see burning above you, natural gas, 
and it is the devil of the cave It would smother me, 
it would keep the blamed old Indians, — I mean their 
bones, forever, unless I kept it burning all the time. 
And there might be an accumulation and then an ex- 
plosion and a devil of a big hurrah, — if I am industri- 
ously particular about that lamp, it is for a good rea- 
son.” 

Ondell laughed carelessly, but his apparent mirth 
was not in the least reassuring to Sondalere, it added 
to his feeling of discomfort. The thought occurred to 
him that Ondell Urmoden might be some sort of a 
madman. 

“The devil ought to love this place,” he ventured 
finally to remark. 

“That too, is of the child world of thought. You 
are a prey to your superstitions, I am trying to be 
rid of mine. I am willing to admit that I can not 
see beyond my comprehension. I cannot comprehend 
what happens here, but I know that it is all in my 
nerves, there is nothing else, oh, I’ve thought it all 
out. Yes, I admit that I am often oppressed by the 
sense of a presence. If I were superstitious I would 
believe that presence to be the shade of my father. If 

Note. — Pseicheidron. . The alleged spirit-soul embodiment, 
the Hindoo, linga-sharira. 


4 o 


Ondell and Dolee. 


I believed in the pseicheidron, then I would be per- 
suaded that his soul often turns earthward in his 
dreams and comes thus gently to my side. I would 
believe that others come with him, they who are fierce 
of form like savages and who do not belong to the 
singing part of glory, if there is any, who having 
passed out in their chaotic savagery have come to me 
for the benefits of civilization. That is the only sup- 
position about it that makes it appear genuine, the 
spirits are reputed to be foolish enough to come to 
such asr me for pointers on being up-to-date. It is an 
hallucination, — I think I am somebody and my own 
creations must needs come to me, they’d disappear, if 
they didn’t. But let me tell you, Sondalere, if they are 
the spirits of former men, I know that they are power- 
less in the strengths of this world and consequently I 
do not fear them.” 

“All this is very weird. I shall not sleep to-night 
thinking of them.” 

“And may it profit you. It is a big achievement to 
find out something about anything sometimes. You 
must not let this worry you. The feeling wears off 
and in the day of common sense, you will learn that 
you are the victim of your nerves. A horn may be 
growing into your organ of imagination, ” 

“Would you seriously suggest it?” 

“Well, I knew a fellow once, who used to get trances 
and then he’d claw his ear until he got a horn on the 
ear, at least. But that may be nonsense, — sec here, — 
why the devil do you insist on keeping me out in the 
woods? I started to tell a story and upon my soul I 


Ondell and Sondalere. 


4i 


am like most other modern story tellers, I am preach- 
ing and lecturing and propounding all the while. That 
is not story telling. Of course the story has a right to 
an occasional lecture, if humorously done, but no man 
has the right to inflict his dark brown opinions on peo- 
ple in that way.” 

“Oh, go on. I want to hear about spooks, the story 
is telling itself.” 

“Well then, I think that I have inherited a peculiar 
tendency and that it reacts upon me. Then I dream 
wildly and being sane, I see sane things. Oh, I’ve 
thought it all out, there is nothing in it.” 

‘Tm not so sure of it, friend Ondell, not so sure of 
it.” 

“I am. Tve thought it all out at my leisure. This 
body is a machine given to run a time and after a 
fashion. Life is desire. Each life has an inherited 
quantity of desire. When that desire is freely grati- 
fied in drink or other indulgences, the quantum is 
more rapidly diminished than it would be in a tem- 
perate life, hence that life is shortened. Death is not 
the mere breaking up of the parts of the body for that 
has the capacity of rapidly replenishing itself, but a 
taking away at too rapid a rate from the sum of 
physical life and causes that which ought to endure 
an hundred years to die at fifty. Each body has a 
small sum of generative energy and all of it is needed. 
If I open a breast and bare the heart my hand could 
grasp it with slight effort and end life. A little too 
much morphine will end it. A little of many things 
will end it. Too much imagination will end it, that is 


42 


Ondell and Dolee. 


why I wish to get away from this condition and not 
to see the effects of too much imagination which is 
eating into my small store of life. But, on the prin- 
ciple that the organs slow down in sleep and that in a 
deep hypnosis one's little vibrating pod of life might 
be captured, you might find a point to work out, that 
is, if you relish high class murder. Get the secret of 
life and you will be master of death." 

“No, no, not that. I’d rather use it to win love 
and gain happiness, not for anything else." 

“That is honor. Having acquitted yourself, for 
gracious sake, let us talk of something else. I am in 
love, we’ll talk of that. Hearts will shift as winds 
will veer, let us find the secret of a true heart. I have 
a little hope, — the hope of a measureless life, let me 
nourish that." 

The philosopher of the unreal, paused to fill his star- 
ing glass and also that of his friend, who was lost in 
reverie, — perhaps in the realm of his special liking, that 
of the mysteries of the hypnosis. He was a weak man 
in his nerves and his distemper was the source of his 
power, some are strong in their strength, other in their 
weaknesses. Being a neurotic, consociation with him 
affected one’s nerves. Not in a little degree did On- 
dell ascribe to him the many hallucinations that had of 
late troubled his own mind. Into the golden grained 
night sat these strange companions pursuing their cyn- 
ical and sinister thoughts. Each seemed to have for- 
gotten himself entirely under the spell of the hour and 
the wine, — and to have nodded for a moment, when 
suddenly a noise as if rocked by the forest’s breath, — 


Ondell and Sondalere. 


43 


a loud explosion in the vicinity roused them fully. 
Ondell ran to the gas meter and Sondalere to the 
door, but a moment later both had reseated themselves 
by the table. 

“What the devil is the matter, anyway?” said Son- 
dalere nervously. 







CHAPTER IV. 


DOLEE AND PHILLEO SURPRISE THE PHILOSOPHERS AND 
AFTER A GLIMPSE OF A NETHER WORLD LEARN 
SOMETHING OF THE SINISTER ARTS OF SONDALERE. 

“Hello ! Hello !” 

Ondell looked up. “That sounds like a mundane 
visitor.” He walked to window where the moon shone 
brightly. His servant had already admitted the guests 
to the courtyard. “By my soul, a lady, attended by 
a gaping fool,— — ” 

“A brave young miss to venture into such a place as 
this,” said Sondalere. 

“Now we shall have a chapter of the famous play, 
'The Sorrows of Satin/ ” 

“Oh yes, I remember, it opens like this: 

“A sweet little girl sat on a turkish rug 
And cheerfully played with a bright eyed pug.” 

“Yes, the quotation is vouched for. Who the deuce 
can be this Miss Luna Tick who beards the* lion in 
his den?” 

“That would be well to tell the wife you were but a 
moment ago a wishing and a praying for.” 

“Hush, hush! It's the queen of county!” 

The door opened and Miss Antieth walked in. 


Dolee Visits Ondell. 


45 


“Good evening, Ondell, are you surprised or out of 
humor, — which? Ah, my good friend Sondalere, I 
am glad to see you,” and without further ado she 
went over to him and gave him her hand. This was 
intentional on her part, she wished to note the effect 
on Ondell and it was most unfortunate that the lat- 
ter was flushed with wine and easily put in a desperate 
humor, as intensely high strung natures are, when 
under the spell of intoxicants. Almost momentarily, 
his geniality froze in his marrow and the boon com- 
panion, unused to the female heart, had become an- 
other man. 

“Saints of this drear quiogozon, how dared you to 
venture out here alone with such a gaping idiot at your 
side?” 

“How dared? Well now, you put me gruffly at my 
ease. I, that have come to see my future home, shall 
I come in or stay without !” 

“Aha ! Now do I read a page that I beheld an hour 
ago.” Sondalere laughed as if to relieve the tension. 

“Come in, come in, my dear, — and be welcome, — 
thrice welcome. And pray tell me what is your mis- 
sion?” Ondell had begun to blunder almost imme- 
diately. 

“Well, to tell the truth, my mission seems to have 
been to get blowed up in this miserable neighbor- 
hood, ” 

“Yes, we heard the noise,” said Sondalere, “what 
seemed to be the trouble?” 

“Gosh blame it!” said Philleo, who had recovered 
some of his breath and pink colors. “Thar was no 


46 


Ondell and Dolee. 


seem about it. We was up agin the rale thing, what- 
ever it was.” 

“What do you suppose it was?” asked Ondell mood- 
ily, for the wine made him heavy. 

“Darned if I know. Seemed to me as if the devil 
come down like a thousand of brick, and a piece of 
him hit me on the back of my knick.” 

“To what else do we owe this visit?” again asked 
Ondell, apparently, not in the least interested in Phil- 
leo’s troubles. 

“And when you come to me at home, do I meet 
you frowningly at the door, in chagrin and surprise 
and ask you what your mission is? But since you 
have asked me, may I ask you what your mission is 
when you come to my house?” 

“My dear friend, — my charming lady, you know full 
well that before my guest, whose mind is skilled in 
allegory, I ought to seal my tongue to what concerns 
him not. But as you have put the question before 
the house, I would say that you know full well that 
I am not an idle man, my visits mean much serious 
business.” 

“Bless me,” said Sondalere, “I believe that you are 
having a lover’s spat and furthermore, that you in- 
sinuate that I am an allegory. If I was dead sure about 
it, I’d get up a rumpus of some kind.” Sondalere was 
in fine cheerfulness, but his thoughts traveled with the 
rapidity of lightning. A world of speculation opened 
up before him and his thought touched every point. 

Note. — Knick. Corruption from German word, genick, 
the neck. 


Dolee Visits Ondell. 


47 


“This is a prospective marriage. She has her doubt 
of Ondell and she is right too. He is making matters 
worse. I am too late, I should have declared myself 
long ago. This is my last chance. I might try the 
magic that Ondell has taught me. When we spread 
our knowledge, we pile up the odds against ourselves. 
When she is mine, all will be right and then Til make 
myself agreeable. Besides, I would do her a lasting 
service to get her out of this tomb. I ought not, but 
they say that all is fair in war and in love.” These 
were his instantaneous thoughts. 

“My visits mean some serious business also,” Dolee 
went on to say, “my mission is to keep open eye, that 
in the erring steps of youth, I may not trip therein. 
There is a touch of allegory for you.” 

“Yess bqss,” interjected Philleo, who must needs put 
his bill in, “go slow thar, for you might be entertainin' 
a giant unawares.” 

“Philleo,” said Dolee, severely, ‘ ; will you take a back 
seat for a while ?” 

“Ah well, of course we are all right,” said Ondell 
with an attempt at better humor ; “join us at a glass 
and we will be better friends. I was rude and I apol- 
ogize, I don’t know what is the matter with me. Now 
this liquor has no evil hue, nor evil aftertaste, it is 
goodly liquor,— drink heartily.” Ondell felt that he 
must do something to relieve the pressure. 

“So it is. PH drink with you and as I drink, I’ll 
think of you, my gay and unfathomable mystic.” Do- 
lee looked at him squarely as she spoke to him and 
his eyes were frank and innocent. Nothing there might 


4 8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


betray his duplicity or his coldness, but then Tanton 
had that innocent, childish look too, — and the eye is 
a base deceiver. 

“That new disease that they call barosis, which fel- 
lers git when they invite the whole house up for a 
drink, ain't got this fur yet," said Philleo. 

“A thousand pardons," said Ondell hurriedly. 

“One will do. I'll take out the other nine hundred 
in drinks." That was as far as Philleo realized upon 
his knowledge of figures. 

“You're not so foolish as you seem," said Ondell, 
offering him a glass. 

“Wall, I may not think fust class, but thar ain't 
anything the matter with my taste, that’s shore," re- 
plied Philleo. 

“Then get your mouth around it before you swallow 
it," laughed Ondell, because Philleo had not recovered 
from his fright and natural timidity of the surround- 
ings and spilled the wine on his chin. Sondalere had 
filled his glass and had evidently arisen to the occa- 
sion, for he stood up with a great flourish of gallantry 
and offered to touch Dolee's glass and she hastened 
to reciprocate. These small attentions of Sondalere 
were very disagreeable to Ondell, probably, for the first 
time in his life he experienced jealousy. Sondalere 
was master of the occasion. 

“Sweet maid, I drink to your eyes, the timid and 
brown, the loving and beautiful," Sondalere was not 
precisely a master of eloquent words, but he could 

Note. — B arosis. To stand treat indiscriminately. 


Dolee Visits Ondell. 


49 


string them out melodiously, — “I drink to the elysium 
of your future and to that awful tophet, — mine own 
future. Fate tears us apart, the beauty goes to the 
other man and Sister Haybag comes to me at last. That 
is all I can hope for, — Sister Haybag, — the beauty 
lingers not for me, alas,” and Sondalere was half in 
earnest, half in jest. In this mock sympathy he was 
an adept, — certain tricks of speech he knew well. “To 
our host, whose silent life, whose gloomy quietness of 
energy, bespeaks his grandeur, his strength and man- 
liness unusual. Large measured, great and kind and 
just a trifle too much given to the strange things of 
this life, — but kind down to the marrow of his soul, — 
to him, I reverently drink!” 

“Too fur down fur me, be gosh ! Say, I like shal- 
lower streams, don’t you, Miss Dolee?” 

Ondell felt nettled in some way, but hardly knew 
how he had been pierced. The play had been very 
delicate. “Sondalere,” he said, “I shall say that I ap- 
preciate your compliments, which I am sure is very 
kind of you, your words are ariose but in some things 
as incongruous as plums on a peach tree, — however, I 
thank you.” 

“Tain’t that, boss,” said Philleo, “it’s the deepness 
and the wideness of yourself that worries me. Come 
closer to the shore.” 

“I think I am well here,” answered Ondell, half 
resenting the intrusion of the rough fellow, though 
in this country unadulterated democracy ruled the 
roost. “If I stay here, I am always a possibility, but 
wherever you are, you are always an oyster.” 


50 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“That’s a slim way of puttin’ it. Thar’s a case now, 
fur ye, whar a post stamp saved the day !” Philleo 
knew enough to know that calling him an oyster was 
not what it ought to be. 

Sondalere did not relish the ill humor of his com- 
panions, he preferred good humor at any sacrifice, 
events would not progress as they ought, if these 
parted in anger. Anger ; forgivenness and a reuniting 
stronger than before, to this it must not come if he 
was to have any success in his own efforts, he felt that 
unless something happened there would be a rupture 
between a man who was not altogether himself and a 
woman almost scorned, — a critical situation. So, 
without warning, he began to sing a plaintive song of 
Old Missouri, one that he had picked up somewhere in 
the backwoods, in the fruitful zone of genius, the 
world had never heard it. 

“That was a touching, melodious song, a sweet 
song,” said Dolee with her bewildering smile, “you 
have a wealth of sensuous melody, I never heard the 
song before.” 

“ ’Twas sung by one unloved of all, — a stranger in 
his native land, — a lover, whose anxious hour is ever 
on the doorstep spent, while his lass is hid secure 
within and he a creature of his own torment, is lonely, 
fretful, sad and sick.” 

“That ought to settle that,” said Philleo, “I guess 
you have diagnosticated your case.” 

“Philleo!” commanded Dolee, “will you have more 
consideration for Mr. Sondalere? He sang a beauti- 


Dolee Visits Ondell. 


5i 

ful song, a dream of harmony, simple, old fashioned, — 
sing it again.” 

Sondalere began again and Ondell looked at him 
severely, but to no purpose. Dolee had begun to ad- 
mire him, not in jest, as heretofore, in this brief time 
he had grown upon her insinuatingly. His face was 
fair and evenly chiseled and his skin had the delicate 
pinkness of the temperate climes and highlands. His 
eyes were exceptionally brilliant, he did not need to 
work and his hands were somewhat delicate. Her 
thoughts went again to the days when they were play- 
mates at school and washed their faces with the same 
snowball. Ondell was not lacking in intuition, de- 
spite his heavy draft of wine, and he felt that he was 
losing ground to Sondalere, though, apparently, he had 
nothing to fear, still he might have to rue this hour. 
He made haste to put himself to rights and with poor 
success. For, even then, as he sat there and tried to 
smile, while Sondalere was humorously revolving in 
his mind, the thought that his face might crack if he 
tried it too seriously, his case became desperate, — he 
was a noble young man, she reflected, but not the only 
one. He was indifferent in very truth even as Tanton 
had told her. Sondalere tried to impress himself upon 
her and no finer treason was ever enacted than that, in 
which he sat at the table of his friend and as he drank 
his wine, directed his thoughts into the mind of the 
lady he loved and powerfully impressed her with the 
suggestion that the man before her was out and be- 
yond her reach and never could be satisfactorily 
brought within the range of her sympathies. 


52 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“What have I to offer?” he said sadly. “I am void 
of the glib graces of the tongue, neither can I sing for 
you.- I am void of any sweet amusement that I might 
here unstore, in this essay, Sondalere may reach the 
expectations of his professions, but not me.” 

“Cheer up, friend Ondell, cheer up, we are all your 
sympathizers in your stated lack of charm and, of 
course, we all know better. By the way, — I declare, 
I had forgotten it, but you promised me a visit to the 
cavern to-night, how about it?” 

“Circumstances, ” 

“Have not altered the case,” broke in Sondalere, 
“undoubtedly, Miss Dolee will join us and so will our 
friend Peachblow.” 

“P’hilleo, — that is, if you are meanin’ me. I sot 
down on a feller once fer callin me pumpkin and he 
ain’t got up yit, nuther.” Sondalere smiled with evi- 
dent amusement. 

“Indeed, nothing would be more to my liking. I 
like the gloomy and uncanny, — that is, outside of man. 
I like a man that is cheerful, since that is the only 
creature endowed with the gift.” 

“Yes, donkeys don’t laugh, that’s er fact,” said 
Philleo. 

“But my dear Miss Dolee, you might not like it so 
well as you suppose. They tell tales of shadow men 
that tip toe through the gloom and from what they say 
of it, it savors of immortal fun. There is really noth- 
ing in it, you will be merely deceived by what you think 
you see. Let me explain. There is always an ac- 
cumulation of gas in the cavern and it exerts a peculiar 


Dolee Visits Ondell. 


53 


effect on one. It is like laughing gas, or cocaine, it 
exalts the faculties and gives one the dreams of hash- 
eesh, so that you may fancy that you see strange 
things. Before you go into this, it is well to know 
what to expect.” 

“Delightful. I know that I shall enjoy it. Let us 
see the spectacle of the weird cavern of which we have 
all heard so much.” 

“Excuse me, please,” said Philleo. “I’ll keep house 
for you while you are gone.” 

“Oh no,” said Sondalere, “you come with us.” 

“Yes, come with us,” added Dolee. 

“Gee whizzus ! I’m in for it now. Remember our 
agreement, Fm to take the lead goin’ home.” 

They went into an adjoining chamber and Ondell 
took from his pocket a key and knelt upon the floor. 
After a moment he arose and lifted up the trap door. 
Then he carefully inspected the gas meter and going 
down into the cave by a few steps, lighted a match 
and at once, springing from one to another with the 
rapidity of lightning, tiny lights spread down along 
the entrance of the cavern and Sondalere saw that the 
pipe that was fastened to the wall had a minute aper- 
ture at an interval of every six inches. As far down 
as they could see, the lights sprang to life and Ondell 
said, 

“We must wait a few minutes. The gas that has 
escaped into the cave will be quickly consumed and 
then only will it be safe for us to enter. Then slowly, 
after a few minutes, he descended and taking the hand 
of his affianced, led her after him. Sondalere, in a 


54 


Ondell and Dolee. 


spirit of deviltry seized the unwilling Philleo by the 
hand and handed him down after her. The scene that 
opened upon them was grand and spectacular beyond 
description. Words or pen could not paint the shim- 
mering, glittering, gleaming stalagmitic formations, 
the vast stretches of blue rock or the impenetrable 
gloom of the farther recesses. In Cavern Hall, the 
roof arched up grandly and gracefully and it seemed to 
be more than a hundred feet to the top. A pipe of 
lights encircled the vast cave and gave it all a ghostly 
brilliancy, it was a picture of a great room in one of 
nature’s palaces, where diamonds, emeralds and gems, 
the most varied and beautiful, studded the sides in 
countless millions, though, in truth, it was in appear- 
ance only. It seemed to Sondalere that twenty or 
thirty acres of cavern stretched out before him and 
that there must have been a mile of lights going 
around it. He marvelled at the wonderfully beautiful 
effect of this, Dolee too, was lost in admiration. On- 
dell had now seated himself on a stone near the en- 
trance of the chamber and he motioned to his com- 
panions to be seated also, but they preferred to stand. 

“Before we proceed to explore, let your eyes grow 
accustomed to the glitter and finery of these imagi- 
nary things.” The visitors looked about them won- 
deringly and the chill and dampness seemed to creep 
upon them as it will when the sense of grandeur is 
keenly awakened. Ondell was used to this intensely 
sublime scene and gave not a thought to the exquisite 
effect that it had upon his friends, the tremor, the in- 
definable throbbing, the sense of fascinating awfulness 


Dolee Visits Ondell. 


55 


threw its spell upon them and Dolee was especially 
susceptible to the trance conditions of her wildering 
situation. In this chamber there reposed many relics 
of former bodies. They were not often touched by 
the hand of man, but it seemed, that as they stood there 
and silently looked upon them, that a metempsychosis 
came to the inanimate relics and that an appalling spell 
began to permeate the place. In their excited imagi- 
nations, they fancied that they heard sounds and knew 
occultly of strangely forgotten legends, pre-conscious- 
ness came to them, shadows of dire catastrophies long 
forgotten seemed to pass before their eyes, sovran 
voices, not from the lungs of earthly men, seemed dis- 
tantly to echo in the far away places into which their 
sight could not penetrate, — indeed, a mystic life per- 
meated the cavern, — souls seemed bound in chains by 
some impulse and as they stood there, a deep, reflective 
melancholy came upon them all and they understood 
better why Ondell was at times so melancholy, he car- 
ried away with him the spirt of the dark place. And 
now, the antechamber, brightly and luridly lighted up 
and then the luridness became intensely ghastly, then 
died away, flared up again fitfully and then glowed as 
a light smothered behind a dense screen. 

“The gas is unsteady/’ volunteered Ondell, “you 
need not mind the strange effect that a fitful light will 
cause in a place like this,” but he noticed that Dolee 
was white unto death and that Philleo and even the 
courageous Sondalere, had occasional chattering of 
their teeth. Then, as if timed to the moment, in the 


56 


Ondell and Dolee. 


far off was heard a muffled sound as of something 
crashing down. 

“Let me out, let me out!” cried Philleo, recovering 
some of his senses and he ran to the stairway and 
clambered up so agilely, that Ondell laughed with 
vigor, but his companions saw not the humor of it. 

There was a haziness and a clamminess about all 
this. The spirit of it was upon Ondell, — the love of 
experiment, — the plodding into the science of it, — but 
to the inexperienced guests, what surrounded them, 
was the most terrible thing that they had ever en- 
countered. They could not do otherwise than imagine 
that in the distance the faint forms of men and women 
became visible, the waters of the subterranean stream 
seemed to rise up and take the form of beautiful wo- 
men, the rocks walked from their fastenings and took 
on the shape of mighty men and men awful in strength 
and visage. 

“Oh, I see strange forms !” said Dolee, almost me- 
chanically. 

“And I,” assented Sondalere breathlessly. 

“As I said. The gas is operating upon your imagi- 
nations. I have seen them for some time. The effect 
upon me is experienced earlier, because I am inured 
to the medicine. Let it not frighten you, but be in- 
structed for a while in what is the most wonderful 
sense that you have, — that of calling up from nothing, 
the various forms of life, that seem to act and move 
and have the being of realities. It is wonderful.” 

Even the bones seemed to them to be creeping to- 
gether, then to set upright and then to rise, then again 


Dolee Visits Ondell. 


57 


to fall back with a loud clatter. The forms seen, now 
appeared to grow with life and the lights of the cave 
seemed to come about them, as if concentrating, balls 
of fire floated about, could it indeed be but imagina- 
tion, that in its distorted fancy, took the lights from 
the wall and rolled them about in the atmosphere of the 
cave? The very bowels of the transparent forms 
seemed to take on the fire that gathered about and to 
gleam in luminosity, — ah, now, the whole place seemed 
as if it was a sea of light and that the utmost power 
of the spirit of light filled it, — it was noonday and 
countless faces were therein that glowed even beyond 
the brilliancy of the cavern and the guests could not 
bear its intensity. Onl^ Ondell seemed not to care. 
When they looked again, for they had shielded their 
eyes, they saw only a semi-darkness, the balls of fire 
were now pink and threw no shadows and no light. 
To them, it appeared that as if in a spiritual crepuscu- 
lence, men and women stalked about the hard floor, as 
if in their dreams. They knew not one another. They 
were strangers, not caring for each other’s presence. 
It might be imagined to such an hell as one would, in 
truth, expect to find, where not one loved the other, 
where despair and loneliness gnawed their vitals and 
gloomy men and women, without hearts or souls, beat 
out the doom of a burdensome existence. Their hol- 
low eyes flashed, the waters seemed now to brighten, as 
though mirrored upon their surfaces were a thousand 
stars together, — ever restless, the waves lashed them- 
selves into a sound of pleading and it was such a 
nameless harmony as they never wished for again. 


58 


Ondell and Dolee. 


The atmosphere was now that of one laden with ices 
and the lights of the cavern burned blue. Then the lights 
burnt dark. Dolee drew near to Sondalere and Ondell 
turned away and then upon it all came such an appall- 
ing pandemonium that the guests were, if possible, yet 
more deeply terror stricken. One imagined that bat- 
tle axes flew through the air, the cries of torture, of 
inhuman yells, the flashing of spears, the sound of wild 
onrush, then an exulting laugh, more then seemed to 
gather for the wild, fierce conflict and in the trueness 
to their inherited tendencies, both guests felt that there 
were no cowards there, they seemed impelled into the 
fight, — but no, — again the lights flared up and the two 
stood there and looked into each other’s faces wonder- 
ingly. Ondell had gotten up from the rock and was 
now seen towards the middle of the cavern. He no 
longer appeared rational. He wandered about and 
gesticulated wildly, as if he led the victors of the bat- 
tle. Then he seemed to sink down by a box that lay 
near the center of the cavern, — to kneel as ifi in 
prayer. 

“The body of his father,” said Sondalere, but Dolee 
answered not. 

Then upon this, — softly, at first almost indistinctly, 
a strain of music came to them as though a mighty 
harp was struck, a wave of sonorous ether, pregnant 
with grief, then to change as suddenly as it had come, 
into a rattle and patter of bony hands and feet and 
amid this awful infelicity and discord to distraction, 
Sondalere felt that he had heard and seen enough. He 
seized Dolee by the arm and backed away to the stair- 


Dolee Visits OndelL 


59 


way and swiftly ascended. He was anxious to 
get away from that place. His influences were feeble 
indeed, in comparison to those of this loka of the past, 
where it seemed, that the virile forces of an prehis- 
toric world had gathered in the sole place on earth 
that might yet continue to hold them and there to re- 
awake to reveries like unto the orgies of the damned. 

“Could this, indeed, be but imagination/’ asked 
Sondalere of his companion. 

“No. This is awful. Let us go away and seek a 
more rational world.” 

“Yes, let us go now,” said Sondalere in a subdued 
voice, “we must not become insane with these things. 
We must not, indeed, be carried away by such things 
as this.” 

The two went out into the courtyard to their horses 
and were soon finding their way down the steep hill, — 
they were again into the moonlight of another world 
and neither seemed to care what had become of On- 
dell in the depth of his trance in the nether world. 


CHAPTER V. 


SONDALERE AND DOLEE RIDE TOGETHER AND THE LATTER 
BY MENTAL SUGGESTION FINDS HERSELF INVOLVED 
IN ANOTHER LOVE AFFAIR. 

It seemed strange to Dolee how well she felt as she 
rode home beside the happy Sondalere. She believed 
that she ought not to feel this unnatural exaltation of 
spirit, that something more than her normal self had 
possession of her, that despite her increasing doubts 
of Ondell she ought not fail to weigh maturely all these 
things that she had seen and heard, — indeed, he was 
not easily forgotten or to be readily banished as an idle 
memory. In truth, this condition that surrounded him 
was not conducive to frank and ready sympathy from 
her, she lived in a country and in a large degree had 
the simple mindedness of the country folk. She must 
not become a party to this kind of life — her friends 
would forsake her, she was lonely enough as it was, 
the Lord knew — but if she married this man, she 
wouM indeed be the sisterly mate of the monk. 

This had been an exciting afternoon and one not 
likely to be soon forgotten. It was not all clear to 
her, her mind seemed even yet to be involved in vague 
and unnatural surroundings, still the mystic faces 
seemed to follow her and fain to depart as soon as seen. 
Her fancy was distorted by the things of the previous 


Love by Suggestion. 


61 

hour, there seemed to lay a phosphor whiteness on the 
fields, a glow as smoulders on dead, rotten things and 
anon the bright and golden grained night, seemed, in 
its rich splendor, to be fading until all things seemed 
dim and wan: Then she sought strenuously to arouse 
herself and her thoughts took on a different hue. De- 
spite her trampled vanity and her misspent longings, 
she must not give way to these forebodings. Uncon- 
sciously, the thought seemed ever intruding that she 
must resign herself to Sondalere, that this was her 
predestined fate, that all other loves had been idle and 
to no purpose because they had not been in line with 
destiny. Never before had the idea of predestination 
appeared so striking and so manifestly true. Long as 
she had known this man, it had not occurred to her 
that he was more than a handsome and entertaining 
fellow, she remembered that he had always a charm 
of manner and a gift of the soft word, but his present 
attractiveness and intense physical suasion she had not 
hitherto discovered. She pictured to herself the fact 
that he did not appear to be strong, either physically 
or intellectually, his aspect was graceful, but not likely 
to inspire one with a profound admiration for manly 
dignity. He was of the type to whom God has given 
chin whiskers and left the side whiskers in his work 
box. And yet notwithstanding this, he drew as with 
a magnet and insinuated himself into her heart and into 
her thought wonderfully. She did not know what this 
meant, altogether this was new to her and it was not 
understandable. As one that lived in the deep dream 
she seemed to move along with the current of events 


62 


Ondell and Dolee. 


and satisfied as she wa9, that her companion was not 
perfection, nor even a partial embodiment of chivalry 
or that within him dwelt the soul of nobleness — yet 
she did not know, perhaps, he was better than she had 
always believed. -She had known a great deal of him, 
he was of the people, nothing other than of the com- 
mon herd who had gotten up somewhat in the world 
and that reminded her that the thought was strictly 
personal. She esteemed herself highly, in fact, above 
the ordinary, but it was handsomeness alone that gave 
her the privilege, her own birth, while as good as that 
of any person that ever animated the clay, was not as 
aristocratic as that of Ondell. Yet Sondalere was a 
fetching fellow and devoted and pliant to her wishes, 
one who would be, in the event of his intending it, a 
passable and respectable husband. Such thoughts as 
these engrossed her almost involuntarily. Sondalere 
probably had such thoughts, his vanity was not over- 
weening, he believed in himself, to be sure, but not that 
he ever imagined that he was born into the world for 
the express purpose of setting it on fire. He was an 
humble man after a fashion, his pliancy could not have 
existed in conjunction with a spirit as proud and se- 
vere as that of Ondell. However, such thoughts as 
these filled her mind as she rode along, she had no 
need to marry him, in a degree, wounded pride, a 
spitefulness of a high kind was upon her, she was on 
the eve of doing anything for the purpose of having 
satisfaction of somebody, — precisely what the process 
was, by which such a state of mind was caused, she 
could not tell. The spirit of rebellion is as mysterious 


Love by Suggestion. 


63 


often, as that of other deep passions. Even yet, the 
music, wierd and lonely, seemed to enwrap her senses, 
as if yet, she walked in the dim recesses of Cavern 
Hall, the long ago was blended into its harmonies, as 
if a pity for all things, a sound of wail and pain, — these 
came again to her as the saddest of fancies that had 
ever filled her mind. 

“A penny for your thoughts/’ said Sondalere, as if 
anxious at last to break the spell of loneliness and 
silence. 

“A pound will not buy them, my friend/’ she replied, 
as one that had been surprised out of a depth beyond 
her senses. “I declare, I dreamed a dream as I rode 
along and it was not pleasant to me. I thought I 
walked in the Cavern, — in the cavern of purgatory, 
where coldness and hate and an utter dearth of love or 
pity reigned supreme ” 

“A terrible place, imagine yourself mistress of >hat 
Cavern ! You’d never think of anything else. You’d 
get into that vague unearthly influence and it would 
hound you to insanity.” 

“But I was not thinking of Cavern Hall particularly, 
I meant ” 

“But a fair type, — I know, you but dreamed. Still, 
of course, ” 

“Really do you think one could become insane in 
such conditions ?” 

“They are all insane. I have done with it all. It 
has exerted a spell over me until I am well nigh be- 
witched. I break away from it this night. I have 


6 4 


Ondell and Dolee. 


enough of Ondell Urmoden and his unearthly busi- 
ness.” 

“He is really strange. I thought much of this talk 
was superstitious humbug until this evening.” 

“But now you have the truth.” 

“It may be humbug.” 

“It is not humbug. If it is, I want none of it any- 
way. You and me are too sane to be mixed up in the 
business. We are rational, normal, ordinary people 
and God has made us for the world of effect, not that 
of its shadows.” 

“You are right, undoubtedly.” 

“Glad you think so.” 

Dolee was silent. The moon lighted with ghastly 
gleaming the lichened mosses that covered the rocks 
by by the roadside and there was beauty, even at night, 
in the tangled ferns that stood by the brook that 
flowed evermore down hill and dale, where also the 
timid harebells grew. The tiny golden rod and the 
purple aster not yet fringed the dell, nor laces of crim- 
som and spears of gold yet looked out with rare life 
where the barberry leaned, when in later days it was 
decked in royal red, — not yet the wild summer bloomed 
beneath her wandering feet, — it was early season 
and she felt, as with the freshness of spring, that she 
was indeed too young for the sombreness of the Man- 
sion of a Thousand Stairs or the autumnal depth of the 
domdaniel cavern under it, that Sondalere was right, 
she had no business with this summer of sedateness 
or this autumn of chill — that Ondell, though young, 


Love by Suggestion. 65 

was yet old, too old in his mind for her and that Daltil 
was more to the season of her heart. 

As they rode together, it seemed to come home to 
her that the world is, indeed at times, a lonely place, 
so lonely that one involuntarily seeks the noise of his 
fellows and the din of machinery, — that, at times, the 
hum of life is the only reassuring thing there is. 

The hilly lands lay locked in night's embrace, the 
tinkling bells were hushed, the busy mill was still, all 
around was nothing of sound or life to reassure her, 
yes, of all hearts that yearned for companionship and 
prayed for devotion and throbbed with the fullness of 
life, hers was alone and utterly forsaken. Yet as she 
thought this thought, she knew that it was not true, 
but somehow into this strangely passive aura of sor- 
row she found herself, nor vet found any means of rid- 
ding herself of the nightmare, — she could not fathom 
the spell that had been thrown upon her, this had 
surely been her strangest day. 

“Dolee," said Sondalere with more familiarity than 
he had ever shown to her, “You are a sweet, dear girl." 
The suddenness of it was refreshing. 

“Thank you, Mister Sondalere, I am delighted to 
learn the state of your thoughts to-night." 

“But you are, of all the ladies of my acquaintance, 
the most charming and the loveliest." 

“Again I thank you" she replied with some less in- 
terest for she was used to verbal saccharinity. 

“Would it surprise you to learn that I presume to 
love you ?" 

“It would indeed, my friend." 


66 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Then you are presented with my surprises. I sup- 
pose it would surprise you also to be married by this 
time to-morrow.” 

“Really? One would suppose that I am in a hurry.” 

“Oh, no. It has happened often.” 

“But it is not likely to happen to me, especially in 
view of the condition in which we left the prospective.” 

“Change partners.” 

“A gay dance you would lead me into.” 

“Not at all. Imagine that Sondalere is as good as 
any one.” 

“Surely, — I hope you do not infer that I ever 
thought otherwise.” 

“Then you could not have the unkindness to refuse 
me.” 

Dolee started and laughed uneasily. “We must not 
jest. Our experiences to-night ought to make us 
solemn.” 

“Yes, my friend, I am not in jest, I would you have 
me taken seriously.” 

“How strange you speak to-night, Mister Son- 
dalere.” 

“But I am not strange. I would startle the neigh- ^ 
bors with an elopement if I could.” 

“Well, I declare!” 

“Why not? We can be as comfortably married as 
any people in the world.” 

“Eloping would be uncomfortable. I have no one 
to ask, have you?” 

“Certainly not. Let it be open and public then.” 


Love by Suggestion. 67 

“Oh, but I only asked a question. I did not mean 
to consent, you have taken me up too early.” 

“Why not then make it a consent? You will be 
happy with me?” 

“Do you think so?” 

“We can try to be happy. I am sure that life is 
brief and that I am not one to bring sorrows into its 
few days. I am easily content. Comfortable, and cap- 
able of love, especially of one so fair as you. I love 
you, I have loved you all my days. I wish only you. 
Life would take on another meaning of you shared it 
with me.” 

“A late declaration, Mister Sondalere, really I 
never, ” 

“Timid always. But you have my earnest, heart- 
felt and serious question, what shall be the answer?” 

“Let me think.” 

“And to-morrow you will meet me here by the old 
mill at three o'clock and we will ride together.” 

“How you would hurry matters. Is there haste?” 

“Not in the least. But for the sake of Tanton and 
Sir Ondell, it might not be a bad idea to show the se- 
ductive goddess a new wrinkle and at the same time 
surprise the neighbors.” 

“Perhaps. I will consider it thoroughly.” 

Daltil had spoken with unabashed confidence, be- 
cause he believed that his art of suggestion, his 
mastery of the subleties of the human will, was com- 
plete. He had not devoted hours of experiment at 
this secret force for naught. He believed in the po- 
tency of the art of personal magnetism. He believed 


68 


Ondell and Dolee. 


that one could compel admiration. Men had, in secret, 
mastered these arts and had used them on their fellows 
to their own advantage, honor and success had fol- 
lowed upon it. To him, life was mechanical, it was 
subject to influences, certain powers controlled it, he 
believed that into the arcana of life, he had penetrated 
and that what he willed to do would come to pass. 

It seemed to Dolee that, in the conditions in which 
she found he'rself, that this would be a unique and easy 
solution of all questions. This one admitted of ro- 
mance, chivalry, revenge and unexpectedness. Woman 
loves to surprise. It was not without dim humor that 
she looked at this matter and it seemed peculiar that 
her inherent coquetry had been so subjected, it was 
all so natural and so pleasant a thing to contemplate, 
that she could not muster up the remotest idea of a 
refusal. She was persuaded by the suggestion. What- 
ever it was that had come over her, she had now the 
feeling of being self satisfied, — complacency, peaceful- 
ness, lack of rebellion, whatever possessed her, — it 
seemed that at this time, sue could have been led wil- 
lingly into anything. She had, as it were, fallen into 
an amatory prostitution and her desire to resist was 
abnegated to such an extent, that had she been less 
chaste in habit and less in the mind of negatived desire 
and she been in context with one less honorable mor- 
ally than Daltil Sondalere, anything might have hap- 
pened. But Sondalere, while dishonest to the extent 
of believing that all is fair in love and that be had the 
right to win the lady by any means whatever, — and be- 
lieved also that after the marriage everything would 


Love by Suggestion. 


69 


right itself, and, that he did not lack in ability to make 
himself agreeable during the honeymoon, — and that 
thereafter, no one would think of disturbing the statu 
quo, — had no other vices; his art was powerful, but 
in himself he was timid and cowardly and that made 
him shrink from baser things — he wished her because 
he had long admired and loved her and his intentions 
were honorable. 

“What would Ondell think of me after that?” Dolee 
asked. 

“That need not worry you. And it would hardly 
worry him a fortnight. He has peculiar ideas of 
women. To him they are elemental and quite sub- 
sidiary to man.” 

“Yes?” 

“He belongs to the safe old school in which women 
are a “part and parcel” only. To me they are equals 
in all things. My wife shall be my partner in all 
things and my companion in every sense. Ondell’s 
wife will be one of the luxuries of his establishment, to 
be exhibited, — and to be put aside, — when she is in 
the way.” 

“Are you sure that you do not wrong him there ?” 

“I would not wrong him for aught in the world. 
He is a good man, of course he is, but not down to the 
level of humanity.” 

In the silent twilight hour that seeps into and 
loosens up the soul, she rode along by the brook that 
flowed evermore down hill and dale and as one that 
was awake in the depths of a dream, she felt inclined 
and even happy to hang upon his wishes and to en- 


70 


Ondell and Dolee. 


joy his presence and his thoughts, his whim and im- 
pulse even, were as a law to her, she bent to his will 
and had no purpose of her own wherewith to lay the 
barriers of resistance. 

Thus was pledged the lives of two who were des- 
tined of life’s sorrows to have full meed. That night, 
when he had ridden away and left her on the porches 
of her home, it was a gay and noble knight that de- 
parted, — not an hour after that, as she lay awake think- 
ing of it all, she laughed to think how completely and 
how easily she had been persuaded into a great hap- 
piness. 


CHAPTER VI. 


ONDELL AND AN UNSEEN FORCE OPERATE A TELEGRAPH 
AND HE CONCLUDES THAT HE IS THE VICTIM OF A 
SPIRITUAL AS WELL AS OF AN AMATORY DELUSION. 

Ondell was surprised not to find his guests. He 
called out loudly but got no reply. Then he went up 
the stairs to his room leaving the lights burning below. 
No one was there and until now he had taken no note 
of the passing of time. He remembered that it was 
seven o’clock when he went into the Cavern, now it 
was eleven. 

This, in itself surprised him, he had never noticed 
that time passed like this, it seemed to be but a moment 
ago. Naturally, the interval of time must have passed 
and during that time he must have been asleep or un- 
conscious. He hoped that neither was true. He must 
not sleep before his guests and to have been uncon- 
scious was worst of all, had it really been this ? How 
many kinds of a fool had he made of himself in the 
four hours that had passed? Could it be that he had 
trances? Did he get into these mystic spells that he 
had seen come upon others and really see all that he 
otherwise imagined ? It must not be. He did not sleep, 
he did not entrance himself, what a shame it was to 
him to think so, how could he ever again face his 


72 


Ondell and Dolee. 


sweetheart and how could he apologize for his con- 
duct? 

While such tingling thoughts as these surged 
through his brain that now operated as one released 
from some confinement, he seated himself at the table 
above which burned brilliantly a jet of gas. On his 
table was a telegraph key which had been placed there 
by his father and had been long used by them both to 
get the news of the world. Both of them knew its 
uses and were competent telegraphers. To his astonish- 
ment he noticed that suddenly the sounder worked 
wildly. “I, I,” he made out and placing his hand on 
the key he answered in the same way. 

“Cut out the wires/’ was the strange request. 

Ondell went to the switchboard and cut out the in- 
struments, then went back to the table. As soon as he 
came within a yard of it, the sounder commenced 
working again and as he drew back, it stopped. Then 
he went near it again and it commenced as before. 

“This a new one on me,” he said. The sounder slow- 
ly and hesitatingly ticked out a message which he read. 

“Wichell of Urmoden, it is I.” 

Greatly surprised, Ondell answered with the key, the 
question, 

“Father?” 

“Mastered at last. Sit near me,” repeated the 
sounder. 

“Mastered it ?” asked Ondell. 

“Yes to work the sounder. Sit still, I need strength. 
Wait,” ticked the sounder again, not weakly and with 
hesitation, but powerfully. 


73 


A Spiritual Warning. 

“Lights out below. Traitors gone/' 

“Where?” 

“Home.” 

“Who are traitors?” 

“Sondalere, lady.” 

“What else?” 

“Let them go for a spell. It is better fate.” 

“Are you my father?” 

“Yes.” 

“I doubt you. You are a pretending spirit.” 

“I am not. You will listen or you will know what 
disobedience means.” 

“Then I am subject to you. I am subject only to 
earth life. I doubt you.” 

“You are subject to spirit life wholly. What is here 
is reflected in your world. All things are done here. 
Causes are here. Effects in your world. You will 
leave the woman for a time.” 

“She does not love me, is that your message?” 

“She loves you.” 

“Then why leave her?” 

“She will leave you.” 

“One of U9 is a fool. I doubt you. I am not a 
fool. My father was not a fool. He never troubled 
about women. Why should my father dead trouble 
of things that never troubled my father living.” 

“For your good.” 

“You are a lying spirit. Give me a sign. I believe 
not. You know my mind. I doubt all things.” 

“Yes, I have not power to give sign. Believe the 
word, else fate cannot be frustrated, you will suffer.” 


74 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Fate is fate. What will be, will be.” 

“Well then, — ” and the sounder ticked faintly, so 
imperceptibly that while Ondell saw it faintly moving 
he could not make out the letter. Long he sat there 
and waited for the force to resume its strange message, 
but all in vain. His thoughts were eager and painful. 
She loved him. Leave her for a time. What could it 
mean? 

In his anxiety, sleep was out of the question en- 
tirely. He smoked and drank in vain to woo the 
drowsy god, but to no purpose. At last he remem- 
bered that he had forgotten to turn out the lights of 
the cavern and then he went down again, not that it 
was needful to go down, but because he had nothing 
else to do and he felt some curiosity to know whether 
he could find his steps on the limestone floor where- 
with to give himself some clue as to what he had been 
doing in the preceding four hours. 

Ondell’s thoughts were now varied and interesting. 
At all times his brain was full of theories and this night 
having been released from a condition of mental sub- 
jection, he felt free to give his faculties unlimited play. 
“None of this can be true,” he was saying to himself. 
“This life is unconscious as far as the next is con- 
cerned in it, as unconscious as prenatal life. Our 
movements here can have as little effect on the here- 
after as the stirring of the unborn child. What I 
have heard, or imagined I heard, is a delusion. What 
I do here is of no note whatever in the hereafter, — if 
there is one.” His notions on that subject were va- 


A Spiritual Warning. 


75 


ried. At times materialism persuaded him, at others, 
spiritism seemed the solution. He did not know and 
he was not very anxious to be informed. That is 
how it stood with him, but for reasons somewhere in 
the realms of cause, the manifestations of over-life 
would intrude themselves upon him as if to persuade 
him against his will. “Life is merely a problem/' 
he was thinking, “and mainly a problem of intermit- 
tent life at that. I am willing to believe that as man 
ha9 intermittent days of consciousness, with nights of 
unconsciousness between them, that our lives are in 
like manner intermittent. The rise of life in childhood 
and its waning and slowing down in age seem to de- 
monstrate its intermittency. Ah yes,” it occurred to 
him “when, there is rejuvenescence is old age, how 
would that go with the intermittent life theory possibly, 
the second life begun before the first terminated, — no, — 
the theory has its beauties, but there seems to be some- 
thing wrong with it. Would it not be possible to dis- 
cover the secret of hibernating or suspending the flow 
of life forces in age until a new spirit of life can take 
hold? That would mean the indefinite prolonging of 
life. That would be a good idea for Tanton, it is in 
his line. To sleep a life and wake a life, to ease down 
and wait in partial consciousness for the new incarna- 
tion,” — Ondell laughed at his own speculations, “how 
utterly foolish is the brain of man,” he was thinking. 

He looked upon the wierd scene around him, the 
relics of the dead bodies lay at his feet. The influences 
that had exerted so much influence on him some hours 
ago were no longer present. As a sane man he looked 


7 6 


Ondell and Dolee. 


upon the picture of desolation and laughed to himself 
at his doubts. He neared the bier of his father and 
the reveries of his mind were those of the utter vanity 
of all things. “Nothing but a few bones, a frame 
whereon some flesh was hung, but what was in the 
flesh? Tell me that. This bone, the lips of wisdom 
held, this brow the frown of rulership, this nose was 
a triumphal arch above a cavalier of manhood, here 
glowed the fiery eye and in this dome stood the sen- 
tinel of the soul, alas, now all is fled away and sleeping 
in nothingness. The homo — the secret — there we have 
it. I see two virile centers, the zenith and the nadir 
of this proud and mighty clay ! The virility of one has 
given life to physical being, the virility of the other has 
given us living thought ! Ten thousand years ago there 
lived a man whose simple story has survived the flight 
of greater things ! A few words that have lived in the 
breath of everlasting life !” Ondell was amused at his 
comparison of the mighty and the insignificant and in 
the reverie peculiar to the character of his intellect, he 
thought of the great and the little, — sometimes with 
rare insight. “Here we have the bones of many men, 
sons of fathers who were hung for the murder of their 
mothers, — and all in blessed immortality. I will not 
believe this thing ! In that paradise there are no runts, 
there is no hunchback heaven, the perfect form alone 
can be an angel. It is a curious thought, have these 
angels internal organs? What would I give to see the 
pink liver of a spirit ! I suppose that their bodies have 
sheets of life tissue, as for instance, along the perito- 
neum, the pneuma and the pericardium and other 


A Spiritual Warning. 77 

mucous membranes, that would, in my opinion, be the 
place to settle the life of the spirit, it must be more 
than a simple shell, it must be a well filled shell,” and 
having delivered himself of this sage idea, he was 
silent for some time. "It is all a delusion, all of it. 
I cannot believe this thing, reason turns my mind the 
other way. The incongruities, the impossibilities of 
it, — I am right, I am deluded by these alleged mani- 
festations.” 

Ondell, after his fashion was thinking it all out as 
he claimed always that he did. He was always ready 
with the statement that he had thought it all out and 
so far as he was concerned, that settled it. 

"And that other delusion ? Does my lady love me ? 
One delusion declares to me that the other delusion is 
the real thing, now, what am I to believe? When I 
think of my friend Sondalere it is to link him with the 
serpent fish of the sea, a mere contact with the bristles 
of his rubskin has made white patches on my soul 
and yet I always believed him to be a harmless min- 
now. Perhaps, one’s misfortune is in himself and 
requires but some weak current to develop it. Well, — 
perhaps, love is so intermittent a thing that it veers 
like a vane with each flutter borne on the breeze of 
hope. 

"The bridal pair will, in time, transfer their affection 
to their children, when these grow up, the bridal couple 
turn again to each other and when the grandchildren 
come, they as promptly forget each other. In old age, 
when almost all is done and the sunrise of the infinite 
quiet of time hangs upon them, they turn again to 


78 


Ondell and Dolee. 


themselves and so every love, is the love of the varying 
mood. 

“Ah, well, they are gone and I am alone. Thus do I 
learn to suspect the love that my lady holds for me and 
so do my dreams of wedded bliss fall into the veritable 
substance of dreams. Pshaw, I must become accus- 
tomed to the world, I set myself up too reservedly, 
like dreamers who set their heroes in a palace, where 
care nor cooking has a part and dreamers lack ability 
to put them elsewhere. Only the great mind can take 
the common things of life and make them interesting. 
The gilt of the palace is easy to make gleam, ever so 
feeble a light scintilates upon it, but the art of glorify- 
ing the dish pan, the apron and the duster, I have not 
learned. But I will learn it and then shall neither 
Tanton, nor Sondalere, nor even Philleo, boast their 
powers over me, I will be as plain of fact as they.” 
Even as he walked around, lie felt that his thoughts 
were those of a foolish man. He recalled one thin, 
transparent face that had come upon his dream, like 
indeed to a drowning man that beckoned him out into 
the depths to his sodden self, as though he implored 
a rescue and then he recalled the stern, defiant face, — 
even the look of warning and God alone might know 
the meaning of all this. 

Slowly, he walked to the stairway and began to go 
up. Still his eager thoughts haunted him, he seemed 
to rest forever at the birth of some immortal thought 
when in this singular frame of mind, his induced de- 
lirium evoked a startling power of imagination. “In- 
deed this is the grandest problem in the world. Here, 


A Spiritual Warning. 79 

I look out as it were, upon the ghosts at play and yet 
I see but my own thought forms — my dream, it is in- 
sanity. Come what may, yet must I face the end and so 
I’d best nerve up my life with boundless love and be 
courageous to the end. If I only knew. She love 
me? She says she does, but doubt, deep set and dan- 
gerous, embitters many a moment. If I knew, then 
might I wait in fortitude on every fate. I must get 
away from here !” 

So he soloquized in his intense, picturesque fashion. 
He had now gotten to the first stair and turned and put 
out the lights below him. "This pipe is making 
trouble of late, there is something not altogether right 
about it, probably, like its owner. Umh ! Some day 
there’ll be a pretty mess of trouble here !” 


CHAPTER VII. 


DOLEE BECOMES A PREY TO DOUBT AND ONDELL HAS 

OCCASION TO BERATE HIMSELF FOR HAVING TOO 

MANY PROBLEMS TO SOLVE. 

Although Dolee had promised to meet Sondalere 
by the aquage where stood the grim old mill, the day 
after their night ride from the Mansion, for the im- 
plied purpose of an elopement, she failed to do so. 
Once to herself, a certain capriciousness of tempera- 
ment asserted itself and as she thought, hour after 
hour, over all the curious circumstances of her mind 
in that time, she laughed uneasily as one that had an 
issue to meet that she feared and yet that must be met. 
It was a distasteful situation, from the final issue of 
which, there could not well be a shrinking away. But 
while the impulse to follow the suggestion of Son- 
dalere was strong, it was not strong enough. Just 
how it fared with Sondalere or what passed in his 
mind at the hour of three, as he waited by the old Mill 
cannot be fathomed, — whether, true to his disposition, 
he was half positive, half shrinking from the issue, 
whether it was a mere intense whim or a deep set pur- 
pose, it is impossible to delve into the inner workings 
of his mind. 'He was difficult to comprehend, he was 
weak and strong at the same time, he was full of posi- 
tivity and full of contradictions as well. For the rea- 


Ondell Has Problems. 


81 


son that he did not fully know his own mind, it is im- 
possible for any one to read the workings of his mind, 
for it was aimless usually. 

It is certain, however, that he was either not suf- 
ficiently powerful in will, or that there is, beyond the 
greatest forces of the will, something that cannot be 
subjected to hypnosis or bent to the force of human 
suggestion. There is, perhaps, a force, greater than 
any physical forces that belongs to another part of the 
phenomena of life, — or possibly to the over-life, that 
has resisting powers greater than that of all other 
forces. The shell or magnetic aura is said, by the 
learned metaphysicians, to be, in some persons, im- 
penetrable to external influences and that in the higher 
aspects of hypnosis, a moral, uncriminal person, can- 
not be induced to crime, but that one of immoral and 
criminal tendencies may be. The force given them is 
in the direction of their natural tendencies. 

It is certain that Dolee was strong morally and that 
the beauty of her soul was only equaled by that of her 
person. And so it was that, after a fashion, this pro- 
posed clandestine marriage, and this sudden breaking 
from Ondell, however much the provocation, savored 
somewhat of an unvirtuou9 act. She was loth to bring 
herself to this passage, on the other hand, her tempta- 
tion to do so was equally strong. Yet the hour came 
and passed and Dolee found herself unprepared for 
the ride, in fact, undressed and nothing ready. So the 
afternoon wore into the evening and she kept herself 
closely to her room in a vague fear that something 
unexpected might happen. 


82 


Ondell and Dolee. 


Sondalere, meanwhile, rode up and down the tor- 
tuous road and as four o’clock and five o’clock came, 
he began to realize that there was something wrong 
with his telepathy. Finally, his impatience became 
such that he tore angrily at the reins and hurt his 
horse’s mouth, for which, he was the next moment 
sorry. A few curses escaped him and in his great im- 
patience something might have happened had there 
been anything for something to happen to. 

Then came a rift of hope, as suddenly, Philleo came 
cantering down the hill. “There is my message,” he 
said to himself gleefully, “something has detained her,” 
and he impatiently awaited Philleo. The latter had a 
wide thin nose on a narrow face and at times a sheepy 
look. This was particularly true this day. 

“Hello, — good evening, what news?” asked Son- 
dalere. 

“Hello, you livin’ yit? I thought you was dead.” 

“Do you come from Antieth’s?” 

“Me? I hain’t been thar yit. I took to the woods 
last night and am just scrapin’ up nerve enough to hunt 
up some of my fellers. Gee whizzus ! When I think 
of it! I am feelin’ poorly, poorly, I don’t want to see 
annuther ghost ever again, not me.” 

“Yes, you look like as if you were in a rapid de- 
cline” said Sondalere — all his hopes knocked into a 
cocked hat and in no humor for civilities, “you’ll be in 
the frying pan before long, Pm afraid.” 

“And you?” 

“Oh, IT1 come later, replied Sondalere in utter 
abandon. 


Ondell Has Problems. 83 

“You don’t seem to be in bloomin’ health, Dalt, 
what’s up?” 

“You need not ask, I am not telling my troubles on 
the road to-day*” 

“I see. Not a good time to ask charity, your wife’s 
in jail. Been thar myself. But, thank the Lord, I 
haven’t got near as much agin the world this week as 
I had last week, I’m feeling better, thank you, — but I 
like to died last night, didn’t you ?” 

“No. We only had a set-to with Macbeth,” said 
Sondalere, laughing. 

“Was that him?” asked Philleo quizzically, “I know 
he was some punkin and I pulled my freight right then 
and thar. Sez I, Phil, old hoss, you’ve been a long 
time gittin’ to the hills of purgatory and if you stay 
‘round here, the rest of the journey is goin’ to be in- 
stantaneous.” 

“Your getting out was almost instantaneous, I 
noticed.” 

“You didn’t either. You didn’t have a thumbnail of 
sense left last time I seed you. Well, I must be goin’ 
to home. I’ve got some of that strange, uneasy feelin’ 
that some feller is layin’ for me with a gun behind a 
clump somewhar and I’m tryin’ to git him fust.” 

“I feel uneasy myself, Philleo.” 

“Maybe it’s a case of unrequieted love with you,” 
he said, as he trotted on, leaving the fretful Sondalere. 
He looked at his watch, it was now six o’clock and 
when Philleo was out of sight he angrily dug his heels 
into the ribs of his patient horse and galloped down the 
road, swearing revenge of a truly direful kind. But 


8 4 


Ondell and Dolee. 


he had not gone far until his inherent debility of will 
manifested itself and then he turned back and rode 
furiously in the opposite direction. He would go to 
her home and see what was the matter. When, after 
half an hour’s hard riding, he came to the place, his 
determination had again oozed out and he rode by 
sullenly, not daring to call. Yet, he must not be angry 
with her, something had happened that had detained 
her, perhaps, it had been taken only in jest and he must 
not condemn until he knew all. Therein he would be 
just, especially, as that was all there was to do about 
it. Besides, his mental state destroyed his influence 
over her. He had not, with all his art, taken that into 
consideration. Possibly he was to blame for it. He 
tried to recall his thoughts at two o’clock and at three 
o’clock, but the evanescent things were gone into ob- 
livion forever. 

Dolee saw him from the window of her room as he 
rode by sullenly and stiffly and her feelings were 
curiously commingled. She could not have despised 
this man, it was not in her heart to have contempt for 
anyone, all men had good qualities to her thinking 
and in that she had truly a large benevolence. And 
yet, as he rode by, the picture was one likely to ex- 
cite a sense of the ludicrous, and she must needs com- 
pare him to the surly portraits of Napoleon — the 
fabled ones, wherein his face seems to be trying to 
hide a stomach full of pepper. So, to her, the master 
of an imaginary army, rode down the way at the head 
of his battalions. She had, undeniably, something 
akin to real regard for him and she pitied him in his 


Ondell Has Problems. 


85 


present disappointment, she was sorry that she had 
been the cause of it. Yesterday, she had not been her 
old-time self. Yesterday, she had been a prey to 
whims and a nightmare rose up before her. To-day 
she lived in a broader light, — one that leads down the 
broad and easy road to Old Maidhood. 

And really, would it be a sane act on her part to 
marry this man in this way? All the day this single 
thought, this monition as to the propriety of the act, 
had intruded itself upon her in despite of her attempts 
to throw it off and it clung to her desperately, that it 
would be a proper thing to do. It was not foreign to 
her mind to disdain the gentle and insinuating Son- 
dalere, not even while she laughed at his evident dis- 
comfiture. That idea was probably strongest in the 
mind of Sondalere. He believed with all his might 
that it would be an eminently proper thing to do. His 
vanity disclosed this to him and his vanity was, if any- 
thing, a shade stronger than his will and likely, for 
this reason, his contemplations had gone overboard. 
But to have gone overboard by the gangplank 
persuasion was what galled him, if it was 
unavoidable, he could bear it, if she had re- 
sisted him successfully and had deceived him 
maliciously, that would be another matter. This mar- 
riage was a devoutedly wished-for consummation. He 
was, at least to himself, as good featured, as noble 
minded, as well moneyed and as fully everything else 
as any man in the fertile valley of Bourbese. She was 
the belle of Gascony and the unfailing delight of 
Champion City, he was not to be despised, not at all, — 


86 


Ondell and Dolee. 


in fact, Dolee, least of all, entertained any such idea, — 
he was equal to all others in most things, admittedly, 
it was only that indefinable essence and soul searching 
affinity, the unreadable riddle of love, that impelled 
her to Ondell. What affectional alchemy lay behind 
it all ! What a mystery, that between many men, 
standing before one, each given with many noble quali- 
ties, one’s sudden impulse is to this one or to that one 
and the current of life ever after brooks no turning 
aside. The twin soul has found its mate. Could she 
be satisfied to learn to love this man? Had she not 
been enabled to forget the love she once had for Tan- 
ton Torquay? Fie upon that, it was not love, it was 
an imaginary condition. And Ondell’s, was that too 
an imaginary condition? Could she pass from one 
to the other and learn to love this man, would it all 
grow with the beauties of other days, with daily asso- 
ciations and personal contact? To that sphinx, the 
appeal was vain. Love keeps a dear school and fools 
will learn in no other. 

In the evening, after she had supped, she felt a ris- 
ing of her spirits, in fact, as nourishment is conducive 
thereto, a feeling of greater cheerfulness came to her 
and she felt that there was no need for alarm, what- 
ever would be her lot, with that she would be satisfied. 

Then Ondell rode up and hitched his horse to the 
fence. Though it ought not to have done so, his sudden 
arrival startled her as though she had been guilty of 
some flagrance and had been detected. In tenfold 
intensity, all the sorrowful feelings of the day and of 
the previous day, returned in that moment. Ondell 


Ondell Has Problems. 


8 7 


came in and cheerfully bade her the hour. 'He kissed 
her cheek, as he had always done, since the day of their 
betrothal and his manner was so open and frank, that 
her fears were dispelled and the sense of shame van- 
ished. But none the less, since yesterday, a barrier 
had unconsciously almost, but surely, thrown itself up 
between them and their relations to each other seemed 
not to be as they had been. Perhaps, they could never 
again be the same. She had learned of the depth of 
his character and stood, as it were, at the door of the 
secret of his mysterious nature. Hitherto he had been 
one of the young men of the country, about whom 
there was nothing especially unusual. But now the 
sage, — the philosopher, — the scientist,— the occult stu- 
dent and the man of many mysteries stood before her 
and she hesitated to 'be as charmingly free with him as 
she had always been. She was overawed by the ap- 
parent fact that she was face to face with a superior 
and ennobled intellect and one that must command her 
respect and if anything, her obedience, they had always 
been equals, — now he stood on a pedestal and she, at 
his feet. She had not learned to distrust him, because 
that was impossible, she believed not the idle word 
that had been told her, but she now knew something 
else, — that this man was the slave of intellect, whose 
companions lived in dry leaves, in a state of eternity, 
to be sure, but to her, they were not in the least com- 
panionable. 

She had never fancied the idea of being tied to a 
philosopher, she desired companionship, — she desired 
the lord who would take a fancy to sit in the kitchen 


88 


Ondell and Dolee. 


and discuss the tittle-tattle of the neighborhood. Her 
disposition was so different from that of the thinker 
and the student, that invariably, the discovery of this 
fact in his nature, put her, at once, beyond his utmost 
sympathy. 

Ondell was not altogether unconscious of this feel- 
ing. His intellect was very acute, and occultly or in- 
tuitively, it had entered his consciousness and he was 
sorry that the fruit of knowledge was so bitter. But 
he was utterly powerless to do anything against it, 
for in the workings of the woman’s heart he was un- 
skilled. Time, he hoped would reassure her and he 
must drift on with the stream of events and be sat- 
isfied with whatever came to him. He fully realized 
her affectional illness, without being enabled to prop- 
erly diagnose its nature, or to prescribe the remedy. 
Not for the first time, did he have to realize that he 
was out of joint with his times, but deeply it came 
home to him now. Humanity that is left to the work- 
ings of natural selection and to the unobstructed play 
of its feelings, is not liable to err in these matters, but 
where the king has lived in his palace and but dreamed 
of realities, without experiencing them, the result of 
his rulership over himself and over the subjects of his 
love, was apt to be misrule. 

The evening was more or less dull because there was 
restraint there and the philosopher and the beauty did 
not get on as usual. Ondell felt that he ought not to 
have gone this night, it was mere perverseness in him. 
He should have waited a few days, he need not have 
hurried, — but the words that ticked ever in his ears, 


Ondell Has Problems. 


89 


though he believed them to be but a delusion and the 
result of a process whereby his own mind had con- 
trolled some occult force within himself to move 
the key and thus unconsciously to him, voice his 
own doubts, yet to make sure, he must go this very 
evening and now he wished that he had been more 
deliberate. When he rode home, — to that home, which 
in its sublime gloominess, was not a fraction toward 
what he felt in himself, he felt as miserable as it was 
possible for him to feel. And his nervous organization 
was delicate and he was as capable of the suffering of 
sorrow, melancholia and p^in, as he was in great and 
excellent degree, of thought and feeling, in other di- 
rections. 

It did not please him that she was going to the city 
for a few weeks and even though she promised to 
write every day, — somehow, he did not like this. Of 
course, she had often gone to the city for a few weeks, 
there was really nothing to it, but at this time, when 
he felt that he was in a delicate place and had not a 
good opportunity of righting himself, this was most 
inopportune and unfortunate. He was as dissatis- 
fied as it was possible to be. He almost felt that he 
would like to go with her to the city for a few weeks 
and he even hesitated and turned back to tell her that 
he would, if allowed, share her journey, only to turn 
again because of the impropriety of it. He might 
contrive to be there accidentally, — no, he was too 
much on his own dignity to be caught in any fool's 
play, nature and chance must take its own course and 
he must be satisfied. “Patience, patience, Ondell, 


90 


Ondell and Dolee. 


you must learn to be patient in all things, for the way 
before you is long and full of fretfulness , ' ” he was say- 
ing to himself half aloud. He thought often of the 
man who conquered himself, instead of the city. This 
evening, instead of lightening the gloom that set upon 
him, had deepened it. With a strange perversity, 
everything had forced him into the discussion of 
problems, — first Mr. Antieth, — then the school mas- 
ter and finally his sweetheart, seemed each glad 
to invite him into things up to his mental chin. 
He had been carried into a tedious discussion of epi- 
lepsy, petit mal and the like hitherto unexplained 
mysteries of the personality, he did not know himself 
how lie had been induced to get into the labyrinths, — 
too many people liked to hear him talk, for he had the 
gift of the mystic realist who takes the common and 
ugly worm of fact and by the arts of a phosphorescent 
imagination, gives it the glorified aura of the glow- 
worm, — Ondell made the rough things shine with the 
wonderful glitter of his brain, the same light that 
comes from things dead and rotten, so it seemed to him 
this gloomy night. Dolee herself, as if in a spirit of 
pure deviltry, had led him into a brain deep discussion 
of several problems that lie never hitherto suspected 
that she had as much as heard of and he hated prob- 
lems, — how utterly he hated them. But he must not 
be rude, he had, with great good nature, tried to elu- 
cidate them. This then, was his penalty for being a 
master of problems. He had, since his childhood 
handled problems that few men ever ventured into the 
outskirts of and he had such ability with them* that 


Ondell Has Problems. 


9i 


the farmers took delight in getting him started when 
they could catch him at the store of Champion City 
on a Saturday afternoon, and then, to be sure, he 
liked to be in the center of an admiring circle, — but 
now, indeed, the case was reversed. He had his fill 
of problems. She had, so it appeared to his ag- 
gravated feelings, taken a sort of taunting delight 
in putting one thing after the other to him, which he 
felt, in politeness, bound to explain. She did not, he 
supposed, understand many of them, even after his ex- 
planations, but it really did seem to him, from the 
way she talked, that she believed that he was on terms 
of intimate acquaintance with the inhabitants of milk 
and that she felt concerned about their welfare. It 
was possible that she had an idea of, in this manner, 
preparing herself tp be his wife. She had read out- 
wardly, his character and in a laudable attempt to 
place herself- in entire sympathy with him, was seek- 
ing instruction. For that reason, he could not re- 
fuse her any information, but he would rather that 
she be not in sympathy with him intellectually. He 
desired sympathy of emotion, sympathy of the heart 
and soul, none of the intellect. 

She misunderstood him, that was evident. He did 
not want a companion in his studies, he wanted her 
for aught else, anything to enable him to get away 
from the borderlands of psychical necromancy, — a new 
train of thought, — a home, domesticity, forgetfulness, 
— a change from the basis up, that he wished for as he 
realized, in his fond delusion, that she sought to gather 
interest in the things he had now begun to hate, he 


92 


Ondell and Dolee. 


was more than ever dissatisfied with himself and all 
his surroundings. 

“It is best for her to go away for a while/' he was 
thinking, “when she returns I will mend matters and 
explain it all to her. For a penny, I'd blow the blamed 
old barracks into the sand of the desert and begin 
again somewhere else. The unearned increment of my 
fortune will make me a lord anywhere. I do not need 
the old place." 

Ondell was in earnest, for the hundredth time, of 
late, it had come to him, that he must remove himself 
out of these surroundings. But it was difficult to 
break away, so many ties bound him here and now that 
he had prospects of marriage, it would seem odd and 
even wasteful to the thrifty folk, to desert so fine a 
home as Thousand Stair and build another. He must 
conform to the prejudice's of the country where thrift 
and economy were prime virtues. Ondell now closed 
the clanging gate of the courtyard that surrounded his 
Mansion. From the elevation where he stood, he 
could look up and down the peaceful and fruitful val- 
ley of the Bourbese for miles. It seemed to wind 
around the hill whereon he lived, as some glittering, 
silver-hued serpent, in whose coils he was hopelessly 
bound. Could it be possible that he would ever go 
away from this beautiful and commanding place? 

Yet he felt, that beautiful and majestic as was its 
situation, that it was, after the Hindoo fashion of 
metaphysics, a place of kamaloka and a spot that so 
long as he lived, would exert an influence upon him. 

However, the days passed and Ondell waited im- 


Ondell Has Problems. 


93 


patiently for a letter from Dolee. None came to re- 
assure him. There was nothing to be done, but grieve 
over it and wonder at what had come down between 
them. Sondalere came almost every night and seemed 
more than usually interested in the problem of nature’s 
finer forces and tried industriously to interest Ondell 
in the meshes of the lucid Upanishads, but the latter 
would have none of it. He was gloomy and moody 
and in none too good a humor with Sondalere. He 
suspected him of intrigue, but had no reason to re- 
proach him with anything. Sondalere had not done 
anything upon which he could hang the peg of a quar- 
rel, much as he would have liked to, if for no other 
purpose than relieving himself of a vast amount of 
accumulated choler. 

Sondalere had plucked up courage and called on Do- 
lee the very next morning. He found her ready for 
her journey and he was discreet enough not to mention 
anything of the promise of the previous day. He 
bided his time. He would be good humored and put 
things right for a future killing. It was his purpose 
to estrange the lovers and build up an unreal barrier 
between them, nor did he think to reproach himself 
for his duplicity and treachery. He relied upon the 
mistaken idea that all is fair in war and in love, had 
anyone told him that the differences between wrecking 
one’s bank and breaking one’s heart is very small, he 
would have thought it a bright bit of unreality. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


PHILOSOPHERS AT A BARBECUE RUN FOUL OF A FOOL 

PHILOSOPHER AND THEREBY SPOIL THEIR PLEASURE. 

In the meantime, nearly a month had elapsed and 
Ondell had kept closely to himself. Sondalere did not 
come now and no one else came. Tanton occasionally 
called, but Ondell was never very cordial withjiim, he 
did not like Tanton so well. He had some real affection 
for Sondalere at one time, but now he was not sure 
that he cared to continue the regard. He liked the 
bluff and hearty Philleo and so did every one else, for 
that matter, — it seemed that Ondell was not by nature 
affectionate, although when once aroused, his regard 
was lasting and true. When the annual barbecue was 
talked of at Champion City, Ondell was more eager 
for it than he had ever been, — it might offer an oppor- 
tunity for getting together again, he had estranged 
himself from his friends entirely. He volunteered to 
furnish the beeves and to foot the bills if necessary. 
This at. once set him to rights with the people and this 
year the feast was likely to a great success. It was 
advertised and guests came from all over the country. 
Ondell was there bright and early and a different man 
from what he usually was. He had made an effort to 
bid the past a fond farewell and to try to be, once 


Philosopher’s Barbecue. 


95 


more, one of the boys. He sat at one of the tables 
and drank wine with Tanton. It was a bright fore- 
noon and the grounds and woods were full of people. 
The dancing platform was already crowded and while 
the band played there were some who wished for 
Philleo, who alone could give the proper swing to the 
matchless hoedown. But Philleo was late. At the 
table where Tanton and Ondell drank, there seemed 
not to be any spare good humor, either. Both drank 
and bantered each other. 

“Tanton, you are a man difficult to understand,” 
said Ondell. 

“Don’t try it, it’s a large order,” replied Tanton. 

“Here comes Sondalere and drunk already,” said 
Ondell. 

“Yeigh, here he comes, damn him, he’s one of God’s 
most truthful servants, -^-bah, the man makes me 
tired,” replied Tanton. 

“I thought you were chums once,” said Ondell with 
some surprise. 

“We were,” he replied as Sondalere came up. 

“Here’s Sondalere, who .looks like he belongs to the 
saloon subscription list, — a bad disease,” he continued. 

“Well, if you don’t like my health, Doctor Torquay, 
you can prescribe for it,” retorted the former, appar- 
ently not as drunk as his gait warranted. 

“All right. You take this, pour out the contents 
and swallow the bottle,” he said laughing in his cold, 
cynical fashion, handing him a wine bottle. 

“You are a humorist, Torquay, I didn’t think it was 
in you,” answered Sondalere. “Here comes Philleo 


96 


Ondell and Dolee. 


and Gerand, they will enjoy themselves to-day. This 
is their day off,” said Sondalere. 

“Philleo always enjoys himself, he lives in a world 
of delusion most of the time. Besides, his father made 
pretzels and that class don’t worry with too much 
thinking,'” said Tanton, derisively. 

“No matter about the pretzels, he’s as good as some 
of us,” retorted Ondell. 

“Undoubtedly,” assented Tanton, looking him ill- 
humoredly in the face. 

“What’s the difference,” put in Sondalere, “he’s a 
good fellow, even if one side of his face looks like his 
father and the other like his mother,—” 

“Yes, and darn you,” said Philleo coming up and 
having a good hearing, had heard what the half 
drunken and incautious Sondalere was saying, “and I 
reckon you’ll say that I’ve got a knot on my forehead, 
whar the cow has her horns, — when you see a feller 
like that, he can generally play somethin’ or other, and 
he’s good at lookin’ for trouble, too.” 

“You’re on the bluff this morning,” replied Son- 
dalere. 

“Don’t you never believe it. I’m not so mild man- 
nered this mawnin’, not much, — my hoss throwed me 
into the middle of the wild rose clump and it ain’t so 
durned easy for a feller to crawl out a-praisin’ the 
Lord, now, if you see enny one, wharever and when- 
ever you may find him, that is lookin’ for service at the 
front, I can oblige him mighty quick.” 

“You are wanted at the platform to pull the tail 
of the horse over the entrails of the cat, that is where 


Philosopher’s Barbecue. 97 

you can get rid of your surplus energy/’ said Tanton, 
— highly amused at the wordy encounter. 

‘Naw, sir, not for me, not till I git in better sort. 
Gosh ermighty, how I’d do a feller this mornin’.” 

“Oh, you need not brag around here,” said Tanton, 
“if you are in such a bad way for trouble, any of us 
here can accommodate you.” 

“When you do, you’ll step right onto a greased 
plank that leads into a well,” said Philleo, and the 
crowd laughed. 

“This must be one of your Moses-in-Egypt days,” 
interposed Ondell, “you are generally in better humor 
than you are. Pray be seated and help me with the 
wine. I’m out for a good time to-day.” 

“Much obliged, I’m right thar with you.” 

“That is right, my friend,” said Sondalere, seating 
himself also and filling their glasses. 

“Wall, Sondy, old boy, the third time’s the choice, 
they say,” said Philleo as he bumped glasses with him 
and winked the other eye, but Sondalere was not too 
drunk not to notice the allusion and he did not relish 
it. 

“A bright young man,” said the keen and alert Tan- 
ton, whose mind, had it been a razor, would have 
shaved stubborn faces easily, “a good insight into 
things.” 

Ondell did not understand. 

“Ondell has too durned much insight,” said Philleo, 
who, it now appeared, was much the drunkest of the 
lot and Tanton laughed cheerily, but to Ondell it was 
but the idle speech of a bibbler. Thus encouraged, 


9 8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


Philleo, ever ready to talk, seemed to be inclined to 
hold the floor for a while and Sondalere did not like 
to be exposed in this place and he did not know what 
Philleo might know of his duplicity. 

“Tell us about your morning’s ride, Philleo,” he 
said, “all about that dump into the wild rose clump.” 

“Oh, thar’s a pleasure in the pathlessful woods, our 
teacher used to exclaim, — the trees air so big and 
purty, with such good prospects for loads of walnuts 
and sacks of hickory-nuts and baskets full of pawpaws 
and your pockets full of blackhaws and your mouth full 
of wild grapes, that I like to go round thar and think 
about it. And the big old rocks with their moss tops, 
which air so fine to set down on, and the beautiful 
crick whar the minnows air twistin' around and around 
one another all the time and whar the birds in the trees 
air a whistlin’, an’ keepin’ their eyes on the snakes, 
an’ then the snakes, the beautiful snakes, as the poeck 
says, they adds spice to the ’casion by makin’ you look 
out for them, and then thar’s the mild-eyed deer ’’ 

“For gracious sake, Philleo, pull up your stake and 
haul in your chain, you have gone over enough land 
for one day,” said Tanton, laughing heartily at the 
unique description of nature’s charms by one who 
ought to know them best, and Ondell seemed to appre- 
ciate it as a rare and precious effort. 

“Well, tell us something else,” persisted Sondalere, 
helping himself to the wine, whereat Ondell found it „ 
necessary to order another bottle. 

“Yes, IT1 tell you one,” continued the irrepressible. 
“One time I noticed, for about two months, that my 


Philosophers Barbecue. 


99 


dad was a gittin’ soft and mellow and took to behavin' 
himself and talkin' religion. So I got scared and, ses 
I, Dad, for grashus sake, git to cussin' and knockin' 
things around agin, for I'm afraid your time is gittin' 
short. The old man took me at my word, and the very 
next day had me runnin' down the holler back of our 
house with a stick of wood flyin' dost behind me." 

Ondell laughed, this time heartily. 

“Tell us all about your visit to Ondell's house, that 
ought to be a capital story, from all that I can hear," 
said Tanton with a malicious twinkle in his eyes. 

“No use in me tellin' that story, some one else's been 
browsin' over that field who done it wuss than I 
could," replied Philleo, and was silent, while Ondell 
felt intensely mortified at the unkind and unexpected 
thrust. Even Philleo, drunk as he was, had sense 
enough to know that he had been led into an unpleas- 
ant situation and after a moment got up and walked 
towards the platform, where he was soon harnessed to 
the first fiddle they could find for him. 

Ondell’s face wore a serious look. His attempts at 
gaiety were met with such things as this. He came 
here friendly to every one and determined not to make 
a single enemy, but every contact with his fellow man 
had resulted disastrously. 

He had nothing more to say, and did not intend to 
be gay any more that day. He would, for appearance' 
sake, remain a while and then he would go back to his 
gloomy home and commune with himself. He pre- 
ferred solitude and hermitage to the rough banter of 
his fellows. No one must make sport of him. Tan- 


L.ofC. 


roo 


Ondell and Dolee. 


ton, however, felt inclined to follow up the conversa- 
tion, though he waited a moment and began pleasantly 
and persuasively, as though inclined to make amends. 
But his innate sarcasm and evil mind only served to 
point his speech with venom and though, perhaps not 
so intended, every word that he said, cut into Ondell’s 
quickened nerves like a knife. 

'‘Ondell — come now, you wear too long a face. Did 
your horse balk this morning while you were sporting 
with your mustard stalk? The gloomiest fellow I 
ever met had such luck, for he had his horse strapped 
to a two wheeled cart and his maiden clasped to his 
side. Lo and behold, when they started up hill, that 
strap broke — the shaft went up, my friend went down. 
The horse up and dusted, so did my friend and so did 
the girl. I saw them but a moment after and their 
faces wore a worried look just like yours, — come now, 
brace up.” 

"Really? Well yes, I have a sombre face, why not? 
My face belies me not, I look to be as serious as my 
thoughts and they are full of concern. But, I think 
meanwhile, that your levity is ill designed and some- 
what rude at that. Once, a fellow rattled a trap with 
clattering insinuation, he was a flatterer and as such, 
incapable of honest speech, he was a larcenist of con- 
fidences. So he flattered and sputtered and in a man- 
ner roundabout brought out his sentiments. May I 
add, — at which I slapped his face and that ended the 
argument.” 

"So you insinuate that I am a flatterer and a horse 
thief of faith and all that. And that you might box 


Philosopher’s Barbecue. ioi 

my ears, if it pleased you ? That were a doubtful ex- 
periment.” 

“Well, perhaps. You know me well enough. I have 
done worse in my time than box ears.” 

“In these times one has many facilities for com- 
municating ideas and one of them may be knocking 
one down, but I do not advise it in this case,” he said 
smilingly and at that moment, Ondell struck out wildly 
to give the slap, but Tanton dodged. Sondalere woke 
up, for he had been sitting in a state of collapse, with 
his chin on his breast. 

“Here friends, no quarreling. I have sworn to keep 
the peace if I have to fight for it. Ondell, I’m ashamed 
of you.” 

Ondell looked at him and laughed, Tanton seemed 
not in the least put out by the attempted assault. Son- 
dalere was undoubtedly seven parts drunk and began 
a rambling conversation, which he evidently suspected 
of being humorous. 

“Ondell thinks he has a girl, a fair skinned, brown 
eyed beauty and I think what I know. I do not think 
what I seem to think. She might love a man like 
me, — why, to be sure. Tanton has the same girl, that 
is, he used to have her, that is, he imagined that he had 
her and now he imagines that he must have her back, — 
wouldn’t that do you now? But I think what I know 
and I know more than I am going to tell.” 

“Yes,” retorted Tanton, “like all other sots, you are 
doing the brag act. You will have sober ideas some 
day and I’ll be the artist to put them into you, too.” 

Sondalere laughed. “What do you call that but a 


102 


Ondell and Dolee. 


bluff?” But he seemed to be in reveries over the fair 
face and must indulge in a few commonplace endear- 
ments. 

“Ah, she is a peach and a honeycomb. Those sweet 
ideals, — those imaginations that trace the faces on 
the clouds, — by the side of the turbulent sea, said the 
poet, there dwelt one woman and none but she, — yes, 
it does my heart good because she loves me, — me. I’m 
the elect of Israel this time. She wants a bright, en- 
ergetic devil for a husband.” 

“Ah, that reminds me,” said' Tanton, sweetly, “I 
promised my patron saint to punish a devil for him 
and I had forgotten it.” Without further words he 
gave Sondalere a powerful slap on the cheek, at which 
the drunken fellow was dumfounded. 

“Good for you, Tanton,” said Ondell, “you passed it 
on around, although yours didn’t reach you. You are 
a hero to slap a drunken fellow.” 

“Well, he needed it on general principles,” returned 
Tanton. Philleo had arrived by this time to rejoin 
them at the table. He witnessed the taking down of 
Sondalere and he had pertinent thoughts on the sub- 
ject. 

“Sondalere, you air either drunk, or a natural born 
fool or just a temporary lunatic — I guess that’s it. 
You’re a regular mulltom in parvoo and when you git 
to the graveyard, which you will afore long if you mix 
with this crowd, save me a hambone.” 

”You are right, Philleo, give him thunder,” added 
Tanton. 

“Say, do you know something, old saddlebags ? You 


Philosopher’s Barbecue. 103 

want to slack down too. Something’s goin’ to hap- 
pen to you some day. 

“You're a fool and you're a nobody. Who are you 
talking to?" retorted Tanton. 

“Gee whizzus, listen to that clodhobber what's 
studied medicine. Say when you get the earth, save me 
a handfull." Philleo was in bad humor to-day and 
ready for a fight or a frolic. 

Ondell had gone off to himself, not wishing to be 
mixed up in a fight with these rude fellows. He was 
quite accustomed to free rows at the annual barbecue, 
it was nothing out of the usual order, but he need not 
have part in this one. “I think I begin to understand 
my rollicking friend, Sondalere," lie was thinking to 
himself ; “he is telling tales out of school. He has in- 
tentions and I must beware of him, for Dolee was too 
free with him. He is a dangerous man, and to think 
that I had him for a friend and confidant. I will trust 
no one in this." 

Almost unexpectedly, he ran into Philleo who was 
looking up at the bright sun from the outskirts of the 
barbecue. - 

“Yes, I got out too. Tanton and Sondalere air not 
my kind of people. Pm too honest to dig dirt with 
them." said he. 

“I suppose you are studying astronomy while you 
can see well," said Ondell laughing. 

“No Pm curin' my hay fever while the sun shines." 

“Only aristocrats have that, Philleo." 

“Well, Pm one of them." 


1 


104 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Say, where did you go after you left the cavern, 
that night you came to see me?” 

“Go? Why I kept on going until next day.” 

“But which way? Where did Dolee go?” 

“How the devil do I know ?” 

“Did she go with you?” 

“No, I resigned my membership before she left.” 

“You left her and Sondalere together?” 

“Didn’t I? You kin bet your socks on that.” 

“Where did they go after they left my place?” 

“God knows.” 

“Then you know nothing?” 

“Not a thing.” 

“Sure enough?” 

“Sure enough.” 

“Oh, you’re not so foolish, you know something. 
Did she get home at all ?” 

“I heard them say that she was thar for breakfast. 
I know that I got thar in time for supper, that's all I 
know.” 

“Where were you all night?” 

“Oh, I thought it a good time to hunt coons.” 

“You caught some?” 

“No, they wouldn’t bite.” 

“Honestly, did Miss Dolee tell you anything next 
day?” 

“Oh yes, she told me a whole lot. What a nice 
feller Sondalere was. Said she was drowsy and looked 
like she’d been drinkin’. That’s why, I says, my dear, 
you air not so peart as you generally air and she said 


Philosopher’s Barbecue. 105 

I was too allfired consarned about her welfare for my 
own good. That’s what I generally get from her.” 

“But she’s a good girl, is she not?” 

“Oh my, yes. And purty ain’t no name for it. You 
ought to see her since she come back. She’s got a 
dress now that’s a dream in cream.” 

“Ah, she has returned ?” 

“She’s back, that’s the way it appeals to me.” 

“Is she coming here to-day?” 

“Yes, she’ll be here later, in the afternoon.” 

Philleo went back to the platform then in response 
to loud calls for him. The band had broken down 
somewhere. Ondell felt a sudden elation. The day 
was not without its charm. The long, vast whisper of 
rain ceased to stir the sleeping maples. There was 
nothing upon his soul that reproached him. He must 
be the lord of the day and the charm of his highly 
intelligent manhood must have its winsome play this 
afternoon. 

That afternoon was a long time a-coming. 


CHAPTER IX. 


SONDALERE AND DOLEE HAVE ANOTHER MEETING AND 

WIND UP THEIR LOVE AFFAIR WITH AN ELOPEMENT. 

Sondalere and Gerand sat under a tree where they 
could enjoy the scene before them, without being dis- 
turbed by its noise. Both had come out of a mellow 
drunkenness and foreswore another for that day. Son- 
dalere had learned that Dolee was to come at three 
o’clock and that immediately sobered him. The tree 
under which he sat, stood in the direction from which 
she was to come and he was there as the man on the 
haystack was, on the day of judgment, — a little nearer 
than the others. 

Gerand, who could occassionally tell a story, was 
rambling along in a fashion and had he lived in a re- 
moter age, might have impinged on the domain of a 
celebrated liar. 

“Dick was the name of that mule and there was no 
mistake about it, Dick was in love with timber. I was 
told that in his youngest days he lived in a forest where 
he had grass in summer and dry leaves and twigs 
in winter, up in the bleak north where the hazel split- 
ter originated the adage of root hog or die. Dick had 
too much stubbornness to give up his ghost to hunger, 
so, with the energy born of immense necessity, he took 
to eating wood. Men and dogs might arrive at some 


Wedded in Haste. 


107 


far off elysium after the fitful fever, but the mule is a 
hybrid and not on the program. So Dick eat a tough 
fare and lived. When in happier days he was trans- 
ported to the evergreen south it was difficult to eradi- 
cate early habits and he remained true to the wood, 
whenever he got good wood. When I got him he 
fixed his sedate eyes horizontally and good wood 
struck him as being plentiful. I left a bucket of water 
for him and it evaporated, all but the hoops. Buckets 
full of oats went down and the hoops alone remained 
behind. That aroused my suspicions. Then the 
neighboring fence lost its standing. The palings were 
chewed off and finally the neighbors caught on and 
used to gather around to watch Dick finish a piece of 
tender cordwood. It was more fun than a circus. 
Dick’s skin was uncommonly tough and his hair stood 
out like bristles. Then it seemed that he got more 
timber abroad than was good for him, but like a drunk- 
ard, he stuck to the habit and wood was cheap. One 
day, however, we were all surprised and so was Dick 
while it lasted. He found a box of matches and after 
he had eaten them he looked to be uneasy and begun 
to run wild. Then he honkey honked, rubbed against 
the fence, rolled over and we knew that he was in dis- 
tress. Then he up and run to the water trough and 
plunged his head in and that is the only thing that left 
us a memento of him, the rest of him fell into ashes.” 

“By jimminy! Save the others for to-morrow.” 

“Til bet you're waiting here for that young lady,” 
said Gerand, suddenly. 

“Well? Wouldn’t you? but you need not go and tell 


io8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


Tanton and Ondell that I am trying to head them off. 
It’s none of your funeral. ,, 

"Of course not. What do you take me for? I sup- 
pose you mean to treat her on the square ?” 

Sondalere laughed at the exquisite appropriateness 
of the question. 

"You’re all right, Gerand, a fine moralist.” 

"Well, to be sure, I am. She’s a nice girl, and I 
didn’t mean anything out of the way. In fact, she’s 
out with Tanton, I hear, and she may be in with 
you for all I know. I like to see young girls well 
treated, I’m not so particular about the old ones. 
You may not believe it, but my own dear mother 
was a sweet girl once and for her sake I always 
respect young women. But when they get old 
and are more’n likely to take their good things to the 
graveyard without any one getting any benefit out of 
it, I am not so particular.” 

"Yes,” said Sondalere. "Often we think what is 
another’s, is ours also, — that we may with reasonable 
privilege trespass upon others. Young men grow up 
with an idea that if they can circumvent some woman, 
it is no wrong. But it seems to me that it is essential 
to the maintenance of society, that the sacredness of 
the family should not be disturbed. Young men should 
be educated as to what is rightly theirs and what is 
rightly some one else’s. Some men have certain kinds 
of ideas, — some have other ideas. There is one kind 
of thinking that society recognizes as the right kind 
and another that is set aside as the wrong kind. One 
cannot say how small a thing will set wrong the cur- 


Wedded in Haste. 


109 


rent of a man’s thought. An idle word, a careless 
example sets the whole life awry. If a young man be- 
longs to that plane where vice is indirectly held to be 
respectable and where female conquests are evidences 
of smartness, then what can you expect of this class 
of young men? It seems to me, that the earliest 
thoughts of youth ought to be inculcated in the Sun- 
day school, so that one may grow up with a good 
bias, ” 

“Oh, lord, yes,” sighed Gerand, “you stick to the 
Sunday school for a while, Fm going back to the dance 
and to the ways of the devil.” 

Sondalere looked at his watch. “It is almost time. 
I will chance it and ride to meet her.” 

He rode along leisurely and though, after a while, 
he saw her coming, he appeared not to see her, until 
she was at his side and had playfully reined his horse. 

He looked up in a surprised way and with as sweet 
a smile as he could muster. There was something 
very genial in his smile. It drew one into entire sym- 
pathy. It was innocent, persuasive and melancholy. 

“Good evening, my friend, how goes the merry 
feast?” 

“I was sad,” said Sondalere, “for the feast is in a 
ferment and there is talk of fights without end. All 
are drunk and I came away and as I rode I forgot 
myself entirely — you are as unexpected as welcome, 
Miss Dolee.” 

“Had I best not go?” 

“Not now. It is unsafe. Let the wild,. cold and 


iio Ondell and Dolee. 

cruel brawlers have their time of it, I wish ways of 
gentleness.” 

“And I.” 

“Turn back and we will ride along the brook and 
graze our horses under the shady trees, we may pass 
a pleasant afternoon, may we not?” 

“As you wish,” she replied, and they turned aside 
into the cool woods for the afternoon was sweltry and 
idled along the still, glorious woodland, decked in end- 
less greenth, beautiful beyond anything of a man-made 
earth. They were together there more than two hours 
and the hours passed by easily and hurriedly. They 
were surprised to learn how the time had passed. The 
hours were to them, fraught with something of mo- 
mentous interest. They had renewed their recent 
vows and the influence of Sondalere was complete. 
The time and place for wooing, the hour for the magic 
of his art, all conspired to give him the potency of the 
master. Sondalere was not without interest, he had 
some excellent qualities and his skill as a hypocrite 
was not to be despised. He could borrow money on 
what he seemed to be. “What is the use, my friend,” 
he had said, “of moping around the world, when there 
are thousands of fine men from whom to choose. On- 
dell — noble, brave fellow, to be sure, but not at all 
suited to you. I am a practical man and a readable 
one. You will repent of Ondell and more so of Tan- 
ton, but I am nearer to your nature than either. I am 
candid. I have not the grace to cover my thoughts. 
What is in me comes to the surface. 

“Yes, I know, — you do not wish to wrong him, but 


Wedded in Haste. 


1 1 1 


he ought not to be allowed, — unconsciously, perhaps, 
to wrong you. One day it will be too late. You will 
not become accustomed to that mixture of gloom and 
mysticism. It has roots that reach to the deep places 
of the earth. You cannot enter this life in spirit and 
he can not get away from it.” 

“What would ypu really suggest, Mister Son- 
dalere ?” 

“My first suggestion is that you do not call me 
mister. You must put me nearer. My next is that 
I have nothing to suggest. I am talking, — that is all. 
You ought to know him. His manner is that of the 
icebox. I will not take it upon myself to suggest any- 
thing, other than that you marry me. Ondell doubts 
us all, even you. He said, ” 

“He told you that he doubted me?” 

“Why, — yes, I believe he did. Yes, he intimated 
that your sincerity was to be questioned. He had had 
a talk with Tanton, ” 

“He believed Tanton ? Did he, ” 

“Come now, we must not provoke harsh feelings.” 

“Tell me what he said.” 

“No, it is not my business to make enemies or tell 
tales out of school, I did not intend anything of the 
kind.” 

“It slipped from you? Sometimes we unwittingly 
tell the truth.” 

“Pardon me. Let us cut the knot by riding over the 
county line and when we return it will surprise the 
natives.” 

Dolee felt piqued and yet full of cheerfulness. She 


1 1 2 


Ondell and Dolee. 


half consented to it, and Sondalere took the reins of 
her horse and rode on, smiling at her in his bewilder- 
ing fashion, so that resistance was well nigh useless. 
Blindly she was led on into fate, perhaps not more 
blindly than thousands of others pass weekly into 
active life, and win or loose at the lottery. A subtle 
calm lay on this summer’s afternoon and Sondalere 
rode on swiftly with his lady at his side. 

Suddenly Tanton rode into sight and it seemed that, 
with almost instinct, he divined that all was not as it 
should be. Whatever it was, Tanton had a wonder- 
fully penetrative intellect, — so keen that his judgment 
was in consequence quite dwarfed. He read one at a 
glance and then knew not what to do with the knowl- 
edge. 

“You cowardly shrimp!” said Tanton, hotly, “for a 
minute consideration I’d break your head with my 
whipstock.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” drawled Sondalere, “I never 
violate proprieties by indulging in a fight in the pres- 
ence of a lady.” 

“Nor any other time. You could not be induced to 
do it. You are too refined to settle anything squarely, 
in any way, — you hairlipped, corkheaded, goatfaced, 
hogeared, — ” there was no knowing how far Tanton 
would have gone with rich expletives, had not Sondal- 
ere broken him off with a keen laugh, as he turned to 
Dolee and remarked, “Tanton thinks I am foolish 
enough to be provoked into a fight to-day, but I am too 
well off to disturb the statu quo. Tomorrow, — next 


Wedded in Haste. 


113 

week, when I am less engrossed, he may try again and 
I’ll try to give him as good as he sends.” 

“You are a, ” but he stopped, for his breeding 

held good and so far it seemed that Sondalere was the 
better bred. 

“I am surprised at you, Tanton, for a man of your 
bringing up to use such language in the presence of a 
lady.” 

“Oh yes, certainly,” he replied, “you are bound to be 
right to-day. We shall see each other about this 
later.” 

“When, I hope it will be rather late to see about it,” 
laughed Sondalere. 

“It will not be too late for me” answered Tanton, 
moodily. 

“You’d waste time on it after our marriage. Go on, 
you’ll survive it and it will not trouble you next week. 
It cannot be helped anyway and it will do you no good 
to wish us ill. We have made up our minds, friend 
Tanton, — and it is as good as done and concluded, so 
make the most of it and come to the infair.” 

“I thank you for your advice. It is valued at pre- 
cisely what it cost me. Certainly, certainly, — but, of 
course my getting even with you need not interfere 
with this day’s program. Any time in a year will do 
me.” 

“Our friend has quite a prolonged determination, — 
to hear him talk,” said Sondalere, turning to Dolee in 
order to purposely ignore Tanton. 

“Yes, and as sure as I live your sneer will wail yet 
with the agonies of death.” 


H4 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“I suppose you were as persistent as this in your 
attentions to Eloine Terren,” replied Sondalere un- 
expectedly and Tanton turned white, but only for a 
moment. 

“I should say so,” said Dolee, who had been silent 
hitherto. 

“That will do, Sondalere, it adds insult to injury!” 

“Truth is mighty and makes the guilty wail,” an- 
swered Sondalere. 

“You cur ! You take a mean advantage of your situ- 
ation to abuse me.” 

“It is not true then?” 

“No, I’d kill you, I’d kill you for less than that!” 
said Tanton angry as it was possible for him to be, 
for he could contain his anger well. 

“It would be profitless, friend Tanton, — profitless. I 
shall soon have a wife to support and you have one de 
facto that you ought to be supporting instead of flirt- 
ing with another man’s sweetheart, ” 

“You are a cur! You are a coward!” 

“And one that hounds an innocent girl until he takes 
all that she has and then casts her to the contumely of 
the world, is a gentleman and a brave man, is he?” 

Tanton was insulted beyond words. He raised his 
hand as though to strike and Dolee raised her hand 
also and called him by name. “Tanton! Tanton!” 
There was a strange power of command in the 
woman’s voice, he felt stricken into obedience. 

“Tanton, for the sake of the past and for the honor 
of a gentleman, which you are, notwithstanding your 
faults, pass by and let us go our way.” 


Wedded in Haste. 


1 15 


He looked at her with wavering eyelids. 

“You have decided upon this deliberately ?” 

“I have.” 

“Then let it be. And remember that ye have me 
to reckon with, even to every infamy.” 

“Forgive me,” she asked pleadingly, “wish me hap- 
piness, will you not?” 

“No ! I place a curse upon you instead !” 

“Come, let us be going. Ben Leach is at home at 
this hour.” 

Ben Leach was the Baptist preacher who lived 
across the county line. 

“Yes, we must be going,” said Dolee. 

“Then go !” said Tanton savagely and he turned as 
one utterly rent in his soul and bruised and bleeding 
in his heart, — as one sickened to death, — impotent in 
every nerve and crushed by hopelessness. He had 
always trusted that someday he would again win the 
amiable Dolee and this parting from her was a great 
trial. He rode slowly down the hill, his head upon his 
breast and his body limply in the saddle, — the defeated 
victim of a desperate devotion. 

A man's devotion is apt to parallel that of his other 
emotions. Tanton loved desperately and in every 
other way, the bent of his mind was wilful to stubborn- 
ness. 

While in the main, his feelings were sinisterly, it 
did not not appear that his feelings towards Doleah 
Antieth were other than they ought to have been. 
Some one he must surely love with all the depth of 
his passionate nature and Doleah was the goddess of 


Ondell and Dolee. 


1 16 

his sole devotions. He regretted a thousand times 
that his sip had found him out, not for the sin itself 
but because it had separated him from the goddess that 
he loved. He had even in his lonely hours wept over 
his failings and sighed that this had come to him. So 
he rode on unmindful of all. Evening threw its folds 
upon the forests, yet the surly, melancholy Tanton 
rode on not caring whither he went or what became of 
him. He wandered again in the wild grassy vale and 
his soul saw the night with its shadows fall. The 
rustling of the leaves bestirred by the zephyrs of the 
evening, the lurid flash of the fire-flies, the chirp of 
the katydid, the falcon voice of the nightingale and he 
heard again as of old, the whippoorwill call. His heart 
reawoke to the memories of days departed, the days 
when he was a lover and the thoughts of that time 
were, as if stealing over him, no, no, — he awakened 
with a start as one that falls o’er the precipice in his 
dream, no, no, — on the years was laid a strange hand, 
that beckoned the dead to rise up from the dust and 
as if, — from the stretches of an infinite quiet of time, 
came something and that something was the cup 
bearer of reproach. 

He had not been true to his trusts. He repented 
him of his silken treacheries, a few tears came on his 
cheek and then, for a moment, he was, as if touched 
by the chord of an infinite song, a vision came and of 
love as pure as the driftings of snow and as chaste 
withal, one glimpse of paradise, then he threw off 
the stupor of that dim, angelic moment and was again 
a devil in the world of cold materialism. 


Wedded in Haste. 117 

Nothing was left for him but to make the most of 
all things and of all men and especially of all women. 
His love for Dolee had been the noblest that his soul 
had ever borne and he held himself to it, as the one 
thing that bound him to life with the strength and 
persistency of life itself. No nearer to paradise might 
he ever come, in verity, she held the key to his salva- 
ton, — fate willed otherwise. This haunted him until 
he had become a monomaniac on the subject and pur- 
suing him as it did, it could not end other than with the 
ending of his life. And from that time on, when ap- 
parently, she was lost beyond recovery, his desire to 
possess her by fair means or foul, became the one note 
that led the inharmony of his life. 


CHAPTER X. 


WHEREIN ONDELL AND PHILLEO EXCHANGE CON- 
FIDENCES AND THE FORMER GETS STARTLING NEWS. 

As the afternoon wore on. Ondell became more and 
more impatient and in his anticipations passed weary 
hours. At length, he wandered far into the woods, 
in hopes, that when he returned, he might have the 
pleasure of meeting her. He had looked everywhere 
for Philleo, but that worthy had disappeared and what 
he knew of his mistress, Ondell wished to learn. It 
was likely, thought he, that Philleo had tried a jest on 
him. To his surprise, he found him in the woods, evi- 
dently in the same mood as himself. 

“Well,” said Ondell, and he felt like calling him a 
last year’s cabbage stalk or some other pet name, “what 
are you doing here? The picnic is over there.” 

“No’k, the picnic I’m lookin’ for is down thissaway. 
I’m searchin’ up a runaway, — one that’s just found 
what’s she been a-lookin’ for. You see anybody like 
that ? The leading officer in the flight was with her, an’ 
it’s hell, I’m tellin’ you.” 

“What are you driving at? You go around your 
elbow to your thumb, why don’t you begin to have 
some sense?” 

“How can I? We jayhawkers can’t learn anything, — 
and don’t forgit that you’re one of us. Josh goes 


Ondell is Surprised. 


119 

’round with his cork heel boots on, havin’ a slit down 
the middle of the tops an’ a pant leg hung in either 
slit, a white handkerchief made of silk ’round his neck 
an’ a big hat on one ear, a twisted hoss shoe nail round 
one finger an’ a swollertail coat. Josh does the callin’ 
off, an’ when he jumps out ’nto the middle of the floor 
and then straight up for about two feet a-poppin’ his 
heels together, it’s fall in partners. Then Philleo and 
Charley Warden and us fellers, can sit on a plank 
crost two old nail kags in the fireplace, whar the danc- 
ers can’t git our toes and the fun begins. Say, you 
know, I’d ruther be out to Panky Hollow, Fizzle- 
spring, Longbeard valley and the Heelstring nation 
any time, than at these blamed barbecues. Over thar, 
when the boys want to dance, they notify some of the 
old folks to git out of the way, then they put the 
kitchen, what there is of it, into the smoke house and 
pull up the bed stakes and lay the cabin bare. The old 
folks stays with the neighbors that night and we holds 
the house down. A barrel of cider on the old sawbuck 
out in the yard and both doors of the cabin swung out 
so that in case of too much tumult inside, we can all 
git out in a hurry. An’ my partner, red headed, freck- 
led and clod faced, who’d a been a world’s wonder if 
he’d had a professor when he was young, would play 
the sweet by and by, until you’d melt into water, an’ 
me a playin’ the tune representin’ the old man an’ the 
old woman quarrehn’ again, don’t you forgit it, give 
me the old hoedown everytime. Darn your high 
fangled barbecues. Here there, you Jack Smoot, come 
way from there now, says a feller and unless Jack’d 


120 


Ondell and Dolee. 


come off from too much proximity to some gentle 
Ruhanna or Millian, thar is a knockdown an’ dragout. 
That’s the way they do it, — here, a fine fellow sneaks 
up, when you ain’t a-lookin’, — that’s civilization. That’s 
what’s happened this afternoon. Gimme your simple 
swain an’ your peach painted gal, until the time comes 
for them to move out for a night and let their own 
youngsters own the cabin, that is whar I’m goin’ to 
spend my honeymoon. Since you fellers come here 
an’ build big old houses and got your dances into the 
open air in the broad of -the day, there ain’t no fun 
m this country.” 

“See here, what the deuce are you giving me?” 

“Say, do you know that you are a crank?” He 
traced an imaginary circle. 

“Who said that?” 

“Oh, it belongs to the neighborhood. You’re get- 
tin’ to be like me, a free hoss in the lot, a free hoss on 
the world wide prairie and they laugh at you, you 
havin’ money they laugh out left, me havin’ none, they 
laugh outright. I’m done. I play no more, I’m goin’ 
into the backwoods.” 

“Pshaw, what a fool you are !” 

“Wall, I don’t know. My noble badge of ancestry 
is a scrubbin’ brush, an’ sometimes scrub stock comes 
to the front, an’ sometimes it gets riled too.” 

“You’re gettin away from the main thing. I’ll bet 
you’ve got two empty bottles in those stovepipes you 
wear around your legs.” , 

“Wall, when I’m a huntin’ snakes, I wear elbows 
on my feet and good licker inside. Gosh er mighty. 


Ondell is Surprised. 


I 2 I 


how I’d do a feller right now. Course, I ain’t no 
claims on her, still I can’t help feelin’ lost.” 

“Too deep for me.” 

“Guess again.” 

“The first thing you know I’ll clear off your top- 
knot by pulling out some of that yellow hair, tell me 
what you know and stop your drunken trifling.” 

“Oh well, gee whizzus, don’t take it so hard. You 
can’t take a hint, then you’ll have to take the conse- 
quences. Dolee went with the perfesser to get mar- 
ried.” 

“Go on, you ought not to jest so.” 

“Hard to believe, ain’t it? When my dad was good 
natured, he’d tell me that I was smarter at twenty 
than he was at forty, he’d tell me that because it was 
easy for me to believe it, sorry I can’t do as well by 
you, but facts, you know. Oh yeigh, — A wind went 
rollin’ through the sky, it bent the limb and twisted the 
twigs. An’ a big sunflower bent in the breezes, that 
blowed the leaves from off the treeses.” 

“Stop your nonsense, I’m tired of it.” 

“Well, she said that she was tired of bein’ fooled and 
didn’t care to be a nun just to please a lot of boys that 
didn’t know their own minds.” 

“You are not serious?” Ondell began to feel some 
alarm. 

“I ain’t? I tell you she rode off with Sondalere 
acrost the county line to Ben Leach’s to get married, 
an’ I’m out of a job. If you know a place whar sense 
an’ cunnin’ air in demand, put me thar.” 

“Confound you, I want to brain you !” 


122 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“You try that on some feller what’s supposed to 
have them things. As fur as I can see, your name is 
dirt in sign board letters an’ I’m so sorry!” Philleo 
ended with a great sigh and Ondell knew then that he 
was in earnest. He turned away without another 
word and something like a feeling of death entered 
his heart. He walked back slowly to the scenes of 
revelry and the day was done. The bonfires were 
already lighted near the platform and the dancers were 
gay and boisterous. He went to his horse and slowly 
mounting him, rode off, having no parting hand for 
anyone, — verily, he had not any friends and all his 
acquaintances were traitors. 

It seemed to him, after a while, that Tanton rode up 
alongside of him with the stealth of a cat. He had 
not heard any sound until he felt a hand on his shoul- 
der and turned in great surprise to meet the doctor. 

“What?” he asked, thoroughly taken aback. 

“Nothing. Good evening, that’s all. I saw you 
riding along and I thought I would ride with you.” 

“Thank you and glad to have you. I trust that we 
are good friends again?” 

“We were never at outs, my dear sir, don’t suppose 
that I mind your little antics, not at all.” 

“Considerate of you and also just. I am often rude, 
my heart is usually in the right place. I love my fel- 
low-man more than my manner would indicate.” 

“Yes, my friend, your heart is infinitely tender and 
kind, I know that you are a good man, quick to resent, 
quick to forgive, as swiftly as you would strike down 
your insulter, you would jump in the river after him 


Ondell is Surprised. 


123 


under other circumstances, and knowing this, my feel- 
ings towards you are tenderer than you imagine. I 
have always had a peculiar admiration for you.” 

“I appreciate your compliments and will remember 
them. You know that you are always welcome to 
my house and what I have is freely at your disposal.” 

“Thank you. I suppose you are aware of the das- 
tardly thing that was done this evening?” 

“Yes, I was told by Philleo that Sondalere and Dolee 
went to the parson's, I suppose it is true?” he asked 
regretfully. 

“Yes,” answered Tanton, not less sadly than his 
companion, — and it was a strange picture that the two 
gracefully aggressive men presented as they rode 
along, having, as it were, a common sorrow and grow- 
ing tender towards each other. They could appreciate 
each other’s feelings, they were intelligent beyond the 
humdrum of everyday, a high class sympathy came 
between them and gave them a pyscho-cognition, or 
perhaps, each cared little what the other said and 
unconsciously played at subtle hypocrisy. The natural 
indifference of Ondell might have led him into this al- 
most imperceptible dishonesty, — for Tanton, it was 
second nature, one might have taken whole blocks of 
his past and made good pitch out of it. 

“I saw them riding together and accosted them. 
“Good evening, friends, which way? What news? 
Disturbing thus the evening dews, would I might ride 
out with a maid a rambling through the leafy shade, 
pray tell me where your journey ends, I would go 


Note. — P sycho-cognition. The wisdom of the soul. 


12 A 


Ondell and Dolee. 


there, if welcome. But our artful enem> replied after 
a fashion, that he loved to ramble amid the swinging 
vines, in the wild-wooded ways where the leaf mulch 
gathers and the bird flitted from bough to bough, 
that it filled his heart with dreams and the drowsy 
dreams did free his soul from pain. Then I smiled 
on and scarce suppressed a sneer and I looked on the 
fair maiden at his side, then he went on to say that it 
was fairer still to have so sweet a lady at his side, not 
only eye and ear, — but heart, — that something which 
speaks the longing found in every man, might then 
have its satiation.” 

“A beautiful picture, friend Tanton, and what else?” 

‘‘Then the lady answered for herself, that so it was 
for her, that she was not alone, in insinuation to us, 
friend Ondell, — us lonely, thinking men, — she is to be 
pitied, — she wants at her age, the parrot and the puppy. 
She declared that she had now a friend who had always 
a kindly answer. Ajnd might it not be sometime other- 
wise? Never, and her faith was something marvelous. 
Alone, the scene might pall, she said, but passed with 
one you love, no scene is ever dreary. And how truly, 
she went on to say, should we value those, who show 
in every little, ’tentive grace, a love that adds a halo to 
each time and place. Thus, it was that she rode on, 
enwrapt in her choice company.” 

I was doubly sad, though not so much for mvself 
as for you, friend Ondell. Gently, I tried to admonish 
her with all the poor art I had, that she sang a song in 
answer to a siren that thrilled a yearning melody upon 
the rock bound reefs by a treacherous sea of moral 


Ondell is Surprised. 125 

death, but she passed my gentle suasion with sneering 
by. And though it has been many days since I held 
a small place in her affections, still there came a 
numbness to my heart. She listened then no more 
to me but took her way and as evening fell with its 
shadows o'er the highway, she turned and followed 
her impatient puppy. So it was, friend Ondell, that 
a better thing than the average, ended in the misery 
of the commonplace, the great rose of the diadem 
fills an empty bottle on a mere broker's desk, — damn it, 
such is life !" 

“I thank you, friend Tanton, indeed I do. Had I 
that charm of infinite delight, — words that drip and 
drag in sweetest melody, my suit had fared me better. 
There is nothing for us, save to pity her, world-wide, 
everlasting pity." 

“None of your Christian pity for me, — no other 
cheek, — no waiting for a reunion in heaven, I am 
a votary of the doctrines that it is the business of some 
persons to germinate the seeds of sorrows and such 
sorrows as bring retribution. One shall the other 
avenge, cheerfully we take the burden from the shoul- 
ders of Almighty God and some of us know our busi- 
ness, — they shall experience that, — subtle, unperceived, 
but generous, generous, swift, sure and infallible." 

“Why would you ?" 

“Ten thousand years of inheritance is a great 
enough riddle, I cannot answer you, I am here to pay 
debts and every man to his business, — nonetheless, I 
regret that I must do this." The strange man appeared 
to be sorry that nature had fashioned him so. 


126 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Tanton, let us not worry over the mischance of life. 
We shall miss the last kiss of a dying bride, what we 
loved, a shadow was and as a shadow fled. She often 
spoke of you, I thought sometimes that she might go 
go back to you, but I had never a suspicion of Son- 
dalere. Now, that it is done, I am half inclined to be 
merry. I am made a fool of, — so what’s the differ- 
ence ?” 

“Well, of course, philosophy and stoicism are excel- 
lent. I leave you here, good night.” 

“Goodnight !” Without further ado, after the man- 
ner of country people, Tanton took a fork of the road. 

Ondell neared his own home and for a wonder it 
seemed a companionable place once more. How gaily 
the light shone ! The windows were bright, the ser- 
vants awaited the master and lonely as he was, some 
waited for him at least. But the feeling was moment- 
ary and was soon dispelled. Deeper than ever the 
gloom settled upon him and as he tossed the rein to 
his man and entered the house, wherein she, the truant 
lady, might have reigned a queen, — she, who was, per- 
haps at this hour, in the arms of another to be loved 
and caressed by him, — his emotions overcame him and 
he sought his room to weep. For a long time he sat 
there and the wind seemed to moan and sigh, a cloud 
hung black, the rain came down to cast its gentle 
curse over the stolen nuptials, — a shadow indeed, hung 
over the world, that darkened it forevermore. 

Almost mechanically, under the impulse of the mq- 
ment, he lifted the trap door and reaching down 
lighted the gas jets. One by one they sprang into life, 


Ondell is Surprised. 


127 


far down into the earth, like stars that lighted the way 
to another world. For the moment he admired the 
picture as if it had strange, brilliant fascination for 
him and then he descended into Cavern Hall for the 
last time. He had come to bid it farewell and to- 
morrow he would turn from it and perhaps years 
might come and go and the young grow old and the 
old lie underneath the all absorbing soil, ere the coun- 
try of his childhood might know him again. 

The idea of going away was now definitely fixed in 
his mind and he carried it with him and the influence 
of it went out from him to the intelligences of the 
Cavern, for almost the moment he came to the pave- 
ment, a discord broke upon the stillness and as he 
walked towards the bier of his father, apparitions 
seemed to come out of space and stand around him. 
Much as he had always refused to believe that the 
phenomena was other than that of his own thought- 
form, giving a weird, though recognizable shape to 
some scarce substantial vapor of astral light, — lumin- 
iferous ether, — some phase of etherial substantialism, — 
he could not bring himself, this night, into his habitual 
frame of doubt. Things, light as undulating clouds 
of smoke, that came when he sat in his study, amid 
the intoxicating gases of the vintage and the stupe- 
facient pipe, — yet bearing an expression of knowing- 
ness, a reality so strenuously intense, that he stood 
still and wondered, if indeed, this world that danced 
before him, was a real world, where men and women, 
bereft almost of forces, yet held personality and in thin 


128 


Ondell and Dolee. 


outlines, barely visible and nothing worth, yet trifled 
uselessly in the aura of the earth’s influences. 

Then a vision came upon him of mountains wrap- 
ped in dense, awful clouds, where tall, bare trees shiv- 
ered as the blasts of winter cut them through, storms 
rolling on in sheets of flame and as suddenly, it all 
melted into gentle evening, where the cooing of birds 
was heard and a cloud of lurid, grayish light lay grace- 
fully, like some insubstantial veiling of silver threads 
weft in a loom beyond the fineness of the ken of xnan, 
upon the greenest of flower-decked valleys — a hallowed 
draping to a restful scene. * 

He saw himself stand upon the highways of the 
night, amid a blending of shadows so doubtfully re- 
vealing something of immarcessible gloom. Then 
again, a picture like a troubled dream unsealed itself 
and from the gathering darkness had its birth. Then 
came the far stretched scene of a wind-blown mountain 
pass, that like a negative touched dimly on his brain, 
seemed to be cast out upon the mingled shades. And, 
two, it seemed, beneath the storm were falling, up 
where the wind blown, rock rent passes of the moun- 
tain rose. He held with death a reverie, a sainted lass 
seemed to return to his embittered thoughts again and 
it was night and day and twilight and sunrise to him 
then — the visions of his life he seemed to halt, as they 
sought fleetingly the dreamer’s paradise. A light that 
came afar then seemed to fill the scene with mystery 
partaking of the deepening night and again his heart 
was touched as with enduring memory,— he felt a depth 
not understandable, — of things he could not reason 


Ondell is Surprised. 129 

with, — as one indeed, who knew not how or why, in 
the darkness of his time and place. 

He looked down and then around. He seemed to 
stand alone and felt an elation of soul and a desire to 
laugh, — at that moment the tears trickled down his 
cheek and everything around him had become so mys- 
terious that he trembled for himself. 

He had, in truth become alarmed. His experiences 
were too many, his emotions too deep, his weak flesh 
was becoming to be unequal to the task, either he must 
soon go into that wonderful realm within whose bor- 
derland he had long been a dweller or he must leave it 
all forever and live the flesh, — live the flesh. 

When a moment later the flushing of light renewed 
and, as it were, the warmth and beauty of sunshine 
filled the place, he found himself more quiet and he 
recalled the vision that he had seen. Far up in the 
wind blown mountain pass he had seen the counterfeit 
of himself. The long, wavy dark hair of the woman 
he knew, for she who bore it was rounded out in all 
the delicate lines of beauty, — the breath of earth filled 
her breast and his heart went out to her, — she that was 
lost this day in the meshes of the flesh of earth. A 
hunger gleamed in his glad eye and it seemed as if 
the gift of prophesy came upon him. A sense of 
gloaming came upon him also and his quickened blood 
grew sluggish. When he saw again the faces that 
braved the storm, in the rock rent mountain pass, their 
faces were cold, white and set. Eagerly he bent for- 
ward and saw that the pair drifted apart, one lay as 
if bleached by the hand of death, the other seemed hid- 


130 


Ondell and Dolee. 


den away under the stones of a dungeon. A mad ex- 
citement seized him, — an involuntary cry came from 
him, — his own voice heightened the fear that he felt. 
It was a sound that made succeeding stillness awful. 
It was simply beyond the bounds of thought. He tried 
bravely to remember happier things, to stand firm and 
wear of! the awful sense that had seized him and that, 
which he almost knew to be the first herald of blank 
insanity. “I will leave this accursed place,” he said, 
“I will leave this place,” he repeated, “I will go away 
and forget, I will go and forget.” 

Tremblingly and half out of his senses, he hurried 
away and dragged his weary limbs up the stairs, — up 
to the flat roof of his mansion, where the light shone 
out upon the valley and the winds of a summer night 
blew free and balmily. 

He walked about in the starlight to relieve himself of 
the intense sense of oppression. Lately the rain had 
fallen, now the air was fresh and wholesome. “Pshaw, 
pshaw !” he exclaimed, “What a fool, what a fool I 
am ! I grieve and think and weep over the imaginary 
sorrows of the world and death waits at the end of 
the lane. 

“It is soon to the end of the lane and here a misan- 
thrope and a dreamer of the orgies of the damned, I 
live. No, — no, I will go away and live in the fullness 
of the flesh and drown out the keen nerve in the lusts 
of the flesh and fill the stomach and gratify the senses 
and hasten on to the end of the lane in the dreamy 
lethe of a rich warm blood, — I will live!” His voice 
had risen almost to an exclamation and his man ap- 


Ondell is Surprised 13 1 

peared in the yard below, wondering what was the 
matter somewhere. 

That completely recalled him to his senses and he 
went below to his study. 

Late that night the servants were awakened by the 
sound of hammering and as they stole, one by one, 
on tiptoe and peered in through the narrow opening 
left by the door ajar, thew saw the master of the man- 
sion industriously nailing down a trap door. 

With long spikes and with a good blow he sent them 
into the floor and at last expressed his satisfaction that 
the work was well done and though knowing their 
master’s many moods, they were surprised at this, as 
they stole back to their rooms and wondered, if indeed, 
the gentle and silent Ondell was in full enjoyment of 
all his faculties. 

But more so was the surprise, when the next day, 
Tanton came in response to a messenger sent by On- 
dell and later he announced to them that he went for 
a journey indefinitely, — that Tanton would henceforth 
be the master of the house and that their pay would not 
be delayed because of his absence. 

And he bade them all farewell and that evening he 
rode with Tanton many miles to the railway station 
and Tanton alone returned, leading one horse and rid- 
ing the other. 


CHAPTER XI. 


TANTON TORQUAY MEETS ELOINE TERREN WHO HAS 

SOME WRONGS WHEREWITH TO REPROACH HIM. 

On the evening after Ondell Urmoden had taken his 
departure, Tanton Torquay sat on a stump at the base 
of the hill, whereon stood the Mansion of a Thousand 
Stairs and his face wore a satisfied look. He liked his 
new home. Its large and visible grandeur suited his 
vanity. He might lord it over the country for a while, 
he knew not how long. Ondell would not soon return 
and if he ever did, there might be another story, — not 
to tell. He respected all men according to their bal- 
ance at the bank and he hoped soon to respect himself 
similarly. He was satisfied with his material progress 
and possession was nine points at least. He com- 
muned with himself and in an exalted fashion. 

“Every dog has his day” he was thinking, “but I 
have never had mine. It has been struggle, always 
striving. When I yearned for education and my 
father could have given it to me, I had to slave for it 
instead. When I wished a profession I had to fight 
hard for it. Whenever a great success seemed as if 
about to come, the most exasperating reverses knocked 
it hollow. Whatever I have done for myself, has been 
done in the heat of the battle and a battle with enemies, 
untoward circumstances and starvation. Who shall 


Eloine and Tanton. 


i33 


say that my will is not a wonderful will or that because, 
in my intense determination, I must have or destroy, 
that I am altogether bad? No, by the gods, the flag of 
Tanton still flies at the helm ! Come good or evil, come 
what will, I go down only when I am sure that I can- 
not survive another moment ! Then have pity that in 
some things I am measured to the standard of great- 
ness, — fate has been unkind to me.” 

He sat there in his boastful reveries and what he said 
in extenuation of himself was not untrue. He had 
striven against all odds and he would strive to the 
bitter end. 

“Damn it, IT1 kill that carrion flesh ! I’ll break lov- 
ing hearts ! I’ll passport them to hell ! They have 
crossed me where the heart is sore and the memory 
is forever keen and I’ll be revenged. My friend and 
my enemy, them will I remember and their children 
after them !” 

In the crepusculence of evening the form of a wo- 
man appeared farther below him where a gentle ridge 
rose from the valley. 

“No, damn it, here is my Nemesis ! Whenever I feel 
good and whenever I think that fortune is favoring me, 
she rises on the perspective and down comes my kite !” 

“My dear Tanton,” said the lady as she neared him, 
“my dear Tanton, I am glad to see you this evening.” 
said Eloine Terren. 

“Of course. And I regret to say that I am not 
much in the humor of it. Where do you go?” 

“Anywhere, the world is wide,” 

“So it is.” 


i34 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“And you?” 

“I live here now. Ondell has gone a journeying 
and I hold the fort.” 

“I am glad for you. And you may how find some 
time for me?” 

“Well, I do not know.” 

“Tanton, if you but knew the heart you throw away, 
the heart with its deep and tender love for you, ” 

“Yes, yes, I know it, but then so much love is wasted 
annually that it is hard to keep track of it.” 

“Disturbing shocks by day and dismal dreams by 
night,- ” 

“Exactly, I have them both. I get a devil of a shock 
now and then expecting you to turn up in the oddest 
of places and at most inopportune moments, and as 
for dismal dreams, I have the gloomiest on record. 
You persist to me greatly, really a little absence might 
make the heart grow fonder.” 

“There is nothing else for me than to haunt you.” 

“Teach the village school more industriously and 
give me a chance to turn around.” 

“I do my duty in that respect and I do more for 
yours than you do for it.” 

“Yes, you’d sell your life for it.” 

“Indeed?” 

“And perhaps no thanks you get for it.” 

“None, — not from the blood of Tanton. Shall a 
child reproach its mother for selling her virtue to buy 
food for it? My child, having the blood of Tanton 
may do that.” 


Eloine and Tanton. 135 

“Hush, woman, no child will do that, not mine at 
least. I am a grateful man in all things.” 

“Yes, truly grateful. You have failed, I learn in 
your latest enterprise, and Sondalere has been keen 
enough to trip you up? You would scarcely admit it.” 

“Because of you.” 

“Because of me is a good cause. A dishonestly 
born son is a good cause. But first of all it was be- 
cause of yourself.” 

“Hush, woman, you but publish your scandal.” 

“It is nailed to the cross. It is nailed on the high 
hill in the public place. Unless you legitimatize us, 
we are Hagar and Ishmael turned into the desert.” 

“Oh, we will come to that sooner or later. I tell 
you that if you give me a chance to get on in the world, 
111 treat you fairly.” 

“But not honestly. I would regain my honor again. 
Oh, precious pearl that once was mine, how carelessly, 
in an evil moment I failed to esteem your value !” 

“Honor is a bauble. Have peace, it is a moment on 
on the lip of notoriety, it counts for nothing. To- 
morrow the great are down in the mire of the depths, — 
it is a trifle merely.” 

“No, it is not a bauble, not a trifle. God has given 
to us a sense of rectitude and a love of honor. For a 
great purpose in a great plan, the exquisite sense 
of justice and of right thinking and correct living is 
implanted in us and in the coming of civilization, the 
family of man rises higher and higher up to it always.” 

“How religious you are !” 

“Woman heralds every rise in civilization, she feels 


1 3 6 


Ondell and Dolee. 


the force that come and gives it to the man. Hers is 
the privilege to see and to know God ere his truths 
come to others, especially such as you.” 

“It don’t strike me that way, my dear.” 

“Yes it does. Perhaps but dimly. I have the sense 
of the fallen, you have not.” 

“Why not?” he asked unthinkingly. 

“Yes, why not? That I do not understand. But I 
have gone to the depths of hell, ” 

“And scraped up a sandbar in my neighborhood, 
is that your remark?” 

“Yes, if you wish it so.” 

“Not at all. I am up to my ears in hell, to be sure, 
but not the one you have in mind.” 

“Let us hope, Tanton, that there is no other one. 
Tanton, my son’s fate wears at my heart. As the 
loss of a child gives the sense of a void, the birth of 
one gives the sense of gain. I am more than I was 
when it was but I. You choose to throw away a true 
heart and a love born of still and thoughtful sense. It 
is refined as that which has the second time passed 
through the fire and left its dross, — can you feel that 
this heart is lost forever to the world of pleasure and of 
joy, that you lay upon it the chill of frost and death? 
The substance of life cloys up and you tear rudely 
away the mask. Is it a phantom child? Tanton, some 
may have loved you longer and some with more ele- 
gant pretense have told you that they loved you, — yet 
why will I repeat over and over again this useless tale ? 
You have left your mark on my brow and changed for- 
ever the course of human action, but PU not chide you 


Eloine and Tanton. 


i37 


for myself, it is not only a question of righting 
wrong, — you will long and’ sigh for a love as true as 
mine someday. It will come to you in your darker 
hours when the world lies in its shroud and the pride of 
your pulses has departed from you, in your weakness 
you will wish for me, Tanton Torquay, and reproach 
yourself that you was not kind and honorable to me, 
then it may be too late.” 

Tanton was not callous enough to sit unmoved to 
this pathetic appeal in its simplicity of yearning and his 
voice was gentler when he answered her. 

“My dear Eloine, how you distress me. I shall not 
have remorse because I will have righted your plea ere 
then. I was foolishly carried away with the seductive 
charms of Doleah Antieth, her high standing at- 
tracted me, I am somewhat a poor creature of interest, 
but I saw my error and I said, — no, Tanton, you must 
not forget Eloine, — all that is now past, she crossed the 
Rubicon and there are just as good fish on this side 
of that river as there are on the other side.” 

• “Are they all fish to you?” she asked. 

“Yes and good for a Friday’s dinner. We need 
not quarrel about it, it is all past. She belongs to my- 
thology and you and me to current events. Come to 
see me at the Mansion, while the distinguished crank 
travels in the land of aristocracy as befits one of his 
wealth. If I had his money, you would not regret it.” 

“Yes?” 

“Yes, come to me there. Come when it is dark. I 
will show you a rear entrance that I have discovered.” 

“An honest invitation !” 


i3 8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“No, — not that. There are servants there whose 
tongues wag like cow's tails in fly time and we must 
not provoke scandal." 

“You wish me for your baseness, nothing else, — 
nothing else." 

“Well, — in the meantime, yes. When we are better 
off we will transmute that baseness into gold. Ha, 
my dearest Eloine you shall yet be mistress of Thous- 
and Stair. Have patience. We have played well and 
in time we shall make our quitclaim good." 

“Tanton, if one could ever believe in you, what beau- 
tiful words you use and how one must hear them in 
the sadness of knowing that they are not true. You 
have of late been so harsh and to my pleadings so 
dumb and so wringing of my heart, — for God's sake 
Tanton, if not for me, endure me for my son. Even 
though I must go away from you on the hour of mar- 
riage, my son will be an honest man someday." 

“Yes, yes, don't worry so much. How you women 
will worry about little things. There's no hurry, 
neither of us is to die to-night, I tell you yes, I will do 
all that you ask of me. But I am struggling along and 
much as I wish to, I dare not think of love's sweet 
idlenesses. I am ears up in trade, a thousand cares are 
at my door, — some fairer, easier day, I'll turn to you 
and love you as I know I ought." 

“You have no time for sweethearts now? That is 
how you sternly set aside the semblance of your lov- 
ing? A worthless toy has tired you in your play, — I 
was an image for your yesterday. I might with patience 
wait but the shame your thoughtless person caused will 


Eloine and Tanton. 


i39 


not hide away. I can keep the boy at school and no 
one knows that he is mine, but the yearning of a moth- 
er’s heart to the child that sleeps in the untender hand 
of the stranger, is beyond your comprehension. I can- 
not give a blasted heart and a defiled person to another, 
I cannot deceive anyone and go with secret shame into 
marriage, you realize that ? I am for you only or else 
a lonely life of lifelong shame, you realize that?” 

“Yes my dear, I know, I know, my dear, be not so 
anxious, I mean it well and on some proper day I’ll 
right your wrongs. Think of me kindly and as one 
that is to be your future partner in the joys of matri- 
mony. Leave me now, — my cares are truly burden- 
some, — have patience, my darling Eloine, — have 
patience. 

“Can I believe you? And will it be soon? How 
sweetly I’d wear for you the charms of wife and fill 
your home with heaven. Can I ever learn to trust you, 
Tanton Torquay?” 

“My dear, you can trust me,” and Tanton put stress 
on the last word as though he meant it from the depths 
of his soul and then he turned away with a soft good- 
night and walked up the steep path towards his home. 

“Confound it all ! I’m in trouble, sure enough !” 
And Tanton put his vehemence into those words as 
though he meant what he said. He was perplexed be- 
tween manifest duty and unconquerable desire for re- 
venge. 


CHAPTER XII. 


TANTON AND GERAND DISCUSS SUNDRY THEORIES WITH 
SOME CALLOUSNESS AND FROM THE VIEWPOINT OF 
CYNICS. 

Tanton sat in the Mansion of a Thousand Stairs 
and congratulated himself that he would be able, in 
due time, to get rid of Eloine. He did not know how, 
but there would be a way. He reproached himself 
too that he had wronged her and felt that he ought to 
do something for her. If he were in position to give 
her ten thousand dollars he would do so. 

Despite his inordinate egotism, there were dim mo- 
ments in which he half realized that his brain was not 
of the very first order. He was bright, but there was 
a certain childishness and immaturity of judgment 
that would show its weakness at odd moments, thereby 
to inform him that noble intellect and sovereign man- 
hood was not his portion. On the other hand, he 
thought so well of himself that when finally common 
sense inclined him to change his opinion, his mind had 
become so settled in its favorableness towards itself, 
that it was impossible to change it. So he bid fair 
to strut on to the end of his days in the religion of 
conceitendom in the land of vanitania. 

Gerand was announced. Tanton awoke from his 


The Viewpoint of Cynics. 


141 


self examination and was glad that some one had come 
to relieve him of his burden. 

“Good evening, old boy, come in,” was his compre- 
hensive greeting and Gerand made himself at home. 
Wine flowed and smoke curled in ringlets, congen- 
iality and careless good humor filled the room. There 
was some sort of stirphood between them, — if not that 
of consanguinity, at least of similar talent in several 
directions. 

“I hear that our good friend travels,” said Gerand, 
after a while. 

“Yes, his disease has carried him off. Let him go, — 
the farther the better and the longer the journey and 
the more breakdowns, the better I shall like it.” 

“You called it a disease?” 

“Yes, that is what we call Hemi-epilepsia procursiva, 
the sensory half of the brain becomes bamboozled and 
it affects the motor half a little and then the subject 
gets a move on. He was a strange fellow, but I diag- 
nosed his case from the beginning, he was often hyper- 
conscious and used to fix his eye on the jackpot until 
he could see forms, colors and lights and usually most 
of my ready change. He was a genius.” 

“You refer to him as one that was?” 

“Yes, he ‘was’ so far as we are concerned. This 
suits you, don’t it, Gerand? Would you like to hold 
on here for a while ?” 

“Yes, to be sure. Free beds for weary sleepers, — 
and not oyster beds either. You say that Ondell used 
to play you out at the game, eh ?” 

“Why consarn it, yes, he could see a dollar through 


142 


Ondell and Dolee. 


the thickest kind of jeans, — however, Gerand, if you 
play a good hand, — we, — you and me, — us and com- 
pany, can own this place and handle the money.” 

“You can depend on me. I know good things when 
I see them. I tell you the ancient knights, whose deeds 
of chivalry challenge admiration, had their good points, 
to be sure, but the modern knight who builds himself 
a fine house or whips somebody else out of one, is en- 
titled to some consideration.” 

Tanton laughed at the remark. It struck him as 
being a point well taken. 

“In the meantime, let us drink and be merry. He 
will not return for months, perhaps not in years. We 
ought to manage it while we are here. We do not 
need all these servants, we can attend to the place and 
keep their salaries. That is one item. We will tell 
Sir Ondell that we had to discharge them. We can 
learn where he keeps his golden apron and eventually 
we shall manage it.” 

“Delightful. We will get on somehow.” 

“I think that the first thing I shall do, will be to 
write a book, I have had enough experiences to justify 
me in setting some of them down. In this house some 
thirty years ago was born to everlasting fame, one On- 
dell Urmoden, that would be a good opening for one 
of the chapters,” said Tanton laughing, as he changed 
seats, “he was a peculiar fellow, grand, gloomy and 
peculiar, I believe is the way they put it these days, 
but for a fact, he was a grand, gloomy and peculiar 
fellow, his personality was signified by a wild and des- 
perate fancy and a riot of the imagination. His story 


The Viewpoint of Cynics. 143 

is the most picturesque ever told and at last he became 
so tangled in a profound analysis, that he gathered 
himself together and left for parts unknown, leaving 
his friends in charge of his estate and filled with an all 
pervading sense of insignificance. ,, Tanton laughed 
heartily and Gerand joined him. 

“I’m afraid that writing a story is too much work 
for you, — that is, in addition to all your other troub- 
les,” said Gerand. 

“But men have died a dozen times for less than the 
glory of telling a good story, — his case ought to bring 
me fame, — I think I’ll try it.” 

“Speaking of other matters, I hear that Dolee has 
settled down with Sondalere, — I suppose that had a 
good deal to do with Ondell’s sudden determination to 
see the world ?” 

“Yes, I suppose so,” replied Tanton carelessly, “she 
saved herself from being a sacrifice to the social evil 
anyway.” 

“I wouldn’t say that, Tanton, she’s a decent girl,” 
replied Gerand. 

“Yes, — oh yes, decent enough to throw herself at 
Sondalere.” 

“I think she is a thoroughly respectable girl,” per- 
sisted Gerand. 

“Yes, — oh yes, of course. I don’t say no. She had 
ways that I did not like, she had a habit of giving my 
bad points to my partner and when she met me, of 
giving my partner’s bad points to me and when she 
met a mutual friend, she’d give him both our bad 
points, — that is why I did not like her.” 


144 Ondell and Dolee. 

“A small matter. You had a quarrel with her once 
I suppose and never could forgive her afterwards, 
some people are that way.” 

“Have it your own way. It is certain that she is 
past our redemption now, but all the same, I wish I 
had her and I’ll get her some day too.” 

“Stale then.” 

“No matter. Revenge is the thing. Gerand, damn 
you, I’ll be frank with you, — I loved that woman, I did 
not mean to say anything derogative to her character 
in my joking a moment ago, my heart used to follow 
her around all over the country and I never knew what 
to do with myself when I saw her. I longed to pos- 
sess her and I know that she would have been happy 
with me, I will have her yet, — by the gods, — I believe 
it is my fate.” 

“Oh pshaw ! You cannot love her now. It is on the 
principle that no man can love truly a woman that an- 
other man has. Why, a father cannot love his daugh- 
ter as much after her marriage as he did before. Man 
loves woman when there is no other man around. He 
must be the sole proprietor. The father and the 
father-in-law are under restraint in the houses of the 
married children, they may not order there, they are 
not the head of the house, not the first chicken in the 
brood. Man thirsts for the companionship of woman 
and for the old time proprietorship of one of them, so 
he marries again, most likely a young one and people 
idiotically wonder why the old man did not live with 
his daughter where he had a good home and all the 
creature comforts. You’d be in the same fix, fooling 


145 


The Viewpoint of Cynics. 

with Madam Sondalere. All of her that is worth hav- 
ing has passed into the possession of another and you 
could never be first in her heart or first in anything. 
You’d be the old man in the house.” 

“By thunder, you are a premier logician! I’ll have 
your name fired through the Academy !” Tanton 
laughed in his dry, melancholy fashion. 

“Life is too short to give way to all these fine emo- 
tions, we exist too doubtfully to hinge on hairsprung 
arguments, — I’ve a desire for her and before I am a 
thousand years older, we shall see what we shall see.” 

“Strictly honorable?” 

“Yes sir! Straight business! I want her for my 
everyday partner, — for life, — for better or worse and I 
think, that is, I have dim suspicion, that I’d kill the 
carrion that puts his vile hand upon her. Do you 
know” he continued after a pause, “that I sometimes 
have a vague notion that Sorrdalere used arts on that 
girl and that he took her partly against her will. If I 
knew it for sure, nothing on earth could save him. I’d 
do him on sight.” 

“Oh tush man, you must be calm, resolute and de- 
liberate, you’ll spread yourself for a hanging and noth- 
ing gained by it.” 

“Yes, yes. I’m often sorry that I have such evil 
propensities. I’m sorry that I did not marry Eloine 
years ago and let it go at that.” 

“Yes, that is another one of your vagaries. You re- 
gret now that you did not marry her and you never 
realized how much she loved you and all that, but the 
fact is that what you would marry now, you would not 


146 


Ondell and Dolee. 


have married then. Your mind and ideal has changed. 
You would not marry her now if you were the same 
man that you were five years ago. That is a sentimental 
rot that we get as we grow older. If you had the al- 
ternative of marrying Eloine now or of jumping into 
the Bourbese with a tombstone in your sock, you'd 
take the latter." 

“My dear Gerand !" 

“Yes sir!" 

“You're a fool !" 

“Undoubtedly, sir." 

“Why.don't you get this lamb for your own?" 

“I’m not foolish to that extent, my dear Tanton." 

“Fudge, you are but human." 

“And you freely donate her to me?" 

“Assuredly, God bless you both." 

“No, I thank you. I'm not anxious for your bless- 
ing." 

“Or God’s either?" 

“Nor God's either." 

“You are always right, Gerand. She's hung to me 
for good." 

“Then unhang her." 

“Yes, confound it! Unhang her, that's the ques- 
tion !" 

Gerand laughed immoderately at this and Tanton 
seemed not in the least pleased with his thoughts. He 
filled the glasses and passed one to his friend. 

“Drink, — here's to the lady that loves us best !" 

“Here's to the lady that loves us most!" repeated 
Gerand and Tanton continued the subject after his 


147 


The Viewpoint of Cynics. 

own fashion, "‘here's to the maiden in full blast, she of 
the dark brown hair, her eyes are dark, her skin is fair, 
she is too sweet to last. She knew me in my glory 
time, when purse was long and fat, and life was 
such a peaceful rhyme, that the devil knew where I 
was at !” 

“Together may you eat the short horn beef in 
the days of the future. You’ll meet her again Tan- 
ton.” 

“Yes, like the devil. That reminds me. When I 
was younger I wrote a poem that subsequently seemed 
to fit my case exactly: "In the confidential archives 
down in hell, there is registered a doctor, mark it well, 
who thrived in all his glory but at last was jammed, 
and beached upon the rock shores of the damned, — tell 
it not in Gascony.” 

* ""Good! Any more of it?” asked Gerand 

""Yes, another verse: Down in that boundless brim- 
stone territory, his claim was staked and marked pre- 
paratory, amid the forests full of naked' fossil trees, 
where fusil oil composed the angry seas, — his eminent 
domain.’ ” 

""Excellent! Beats Tennifellow all hollow! Any 
more of it?” 

""Yes, after I wash down the ashes. The other 
verse: "When life was done he landed much against 
his will, and saw the blue smoke curling o’er the dis- 
tant hill, he climbed the mount, what was beyond he 
could not tell, but when he got there, it was hell, — and 
no mistake either !’ ” 

Gerand was drunk enough to believe that the recita- 


148 


Ondell and Dolee. 


tion was that of naked genius and Tanton, had he not 
been drinking, would not have repeated the verses, be- 
cause he hated poetry. He believed that everything 
could be expressed so much better in ordinary words, 
than in musical terms, that he would not versify his 
thoughts, but when he grew eloquent, he unconsciously 
made music with his voice. He was in many degrees a 
natural singer, in the same way that most of nature’s 
singers are devoid of conscience and morality. He had 
every attribute of nature’s sweetest gifts with the de- 
ficiencies that usually go with them. 

“I ought not scoff as I do,” he said after a while, 
“it is not right for me to berate myself or the things 
that have come around me. I suppose that God and 
his image, the genus homo, have made many mistakes 
and need experiences. God repented of his first ex- 
periment and possibly of the last. When man wished 
to find out about his nakedness, he became unclean. 
Then he drowned them all out. Let us believe that 
God has pleasure in his experiments and experiences, 
that he builds worlds and creates peopie as curious ex- 
periments, like the boy who builds his mudhouse. Let 
us believe that he repented him of the huge men and 
animals and concluded that a smaller edition would be 
handier. Nature, which is God, is an infinite delight 
of experiments and evolutions which must be of 
great interest to their creator. If God or Tanton knew 
all the results of a thing done by them, they would 
have no interest in anything. Heaven would be bore- 
dom.” 

“What in thunder are you talking of?” said Gerand, 


The Viewpoint of Cynics. 


149 


as if half waking up, “Sondalere gave me a Sunday 
school lecture just before he went off to do his devil- 
try and you are giving me a dish of theosophy, — what 
are you up to?” 

“Nothing at all. I was just rambling along trying 
to find out something about myself. We are too se- 
rious, — too serious. We get religious and let the good 
things slip by us. Consarn it, Gerand, it is a delicately 
balanced world, by long ages of combining of ele- 
ments, we have struck the habitable human creative 
pace. It has all been accidental. Some day, the newly 
isolated negathum or negathim, whatever it is, will 
become, suddenly, too fond of the oxygen or the nitro- 
gen and then explode the whole hippodrome. Pos- 
sibly the air will be full of orange yellow gases and 
nowhere will we find it breathable. Then we exit, 
friend Gerand and another human animal, that can 
stand the new conditions, will take our place. And 
though accidental and wholly a product of environ- 
ment, there will arise prophets amongst them, to tell of 
mystic and divine origin and of the great purpose of 
all things. They will herald an imaginary God and set 
up a standard of morality and of possession and of 
dispossession and tell me, for instance, that I have no 
right to Dolee because, by a few words constituting 
a crazy ceremony, she is supposed to belong to another 
fellow. Damn it, I’d see myself, — ” he said vehe- 
mently, “hello, hello, Gerand, change cars !” He 


Note. — Negathim or Negathum, terms denotive of undis- 
covered elements. 


Ondell and Dolee. 


150 

laughed, for Gerand was fast asleep with his head on 
the table. 

“He missed something profound that time,” said 
Tanton as he filled his pipe and resumed his extra- 
ordinary meditations. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


AFTER A YEAR, THREE PHILOSOPHERS DRINK ONE AN- 
OTHER^ HEALTH WITH SERIOUS CONSEQUENCES. 

A year had elapsed. During that year Tanton’s 
skill as a diplomat amatorian had been put severely to 
the test in evading and cajoling the trustful Eloine, 
but circumstances and adroitness had thrown their 
bounties upon him. The scene of this day was again 
the annual barbecue and this time the wily Tanton had 
fathered the bulk of the expenses. Each year some 
prosperous man volunteered to head the list to buy the 
beef and provide the music and Tanton must have 
prospered somewhat in this year and besides he had 
another motive in winning the good will of his neigh- 
bors, he was up to some deviltry and must pave the 
way for it benevolently. 

The annual barbecue was this year held in a more 
picturesque place than that of the preceeding years, 
at no other place than at the foot of the hill in the 
small forest-like park below the frowning mansion of 
a Thousand Stairs, — a place well fitted for the festival. 
An arborium stood in that park and it was covered 
over with a massive wild grape vine that secluded it 
as though it were a house. All around it grew a dense 
undergrowth of vines and immediately beyond it, all 
this had been cleared away so that nothing remained 


l 5 2 


Ondell and Dolee. 


other than beautiful oaks and hickories thinly 
shrouding the grassy earth. It was such a place as 
Ondell loved and he had seen to it in his day that it 
was well kept. Nor was it worse kept by Tanton, for 
he too, loved the quiet nook and often there, his fever- 
ish soul was wont to linger, listening to the susurrous 
rustling of the leaves. 

This day Tanton and Sondalere sat in the arborium 
and drank merrily and the former, in consonance with 
his characteristics, was alternately stinging his com- 
panion with keen wit or lulling him to great ease with 
his philosophic inquinations. He was at this moment 
telling the credulous Sondalere of one of his mystical 
experiences at the Mansion, in response to the latter's 
question, — though, in fact, is was a falsehood done ar- 
tistically. 

“I saw a thin veil come over me" he was saying, 
“one day as I fell into that gentle somnolism that will 
come upon one who sits in the chair of the lamented 
Ondell and behold I seemed to wander on the border 
line and was seized with an awful rush, where it 
seemed that worlds met together and I was swirled in 
a jiffy to another one. Should it ever come to you, 
friend Sondalere, to meet with a similar experience, 
you will find that what I say is true, for in the temple 
of the third heaven, a tablet was placed by me, telling 
of my visit and that, in anticipation of an immediate 
swirl back to annihilation, I thought it well to leave a 
memento there. But here I am and when I return to 
that resplendent domain it will be in the spirit and not 
in the body." He laughed. 


The Second Barbecue. 


i53 


“A fine example of a crank lecture on spiritism, — I 
declare, you seem to be in earnest about it,” said Son- 
dalere. 

"Earnest? Why blame it, I never was more earnest 
in my life.” 

"Go to. But I admit that it is a great gift to be able 
to seize upon a spiritual truth and tear the husk from 
it.” 

"You mean that it is a fine gift to be able to seize 
upon a great type of the universal rogue and pull the 
skin off of him, eh ?” 

"Nothing personal?” 

"No. Merely an exudation of that philosophic calm 
which is the crowning characteristic of the mind of 
the scientist.” 

"Fudge.” 

"Well then, fudge. What else? Come tell us of 
your marital experiences, if you will not philosophize. 
Your judgment ought to be excellent after the honey- 
moon.” 

"Yes, — but hardly a subject that propriety asks to 
have discussed.” 

"Why not ? — Old friends, — why I am as much inter- 
ested in that as ever. I may want to marry some day 
myself and need instruction. I hope sincerely that 
you are happy. You ought to have full bliss with such 
a lovely wife as Dolee, — in despite your worn and hag- 
gard look.” 

"‘My looks are haggard?” 

"Eve noticed it, — yes. And says I to myself, there 
are two kinds of collapse, one is to swell up and burst 


154 


Ondell and Dolee. 


and the other is to dry up and crack. Pray suffer not 
either to happen to you.” 

“Well I declare! However, as you desire a glimpse 
of the mise en scene of my marriage, forsooth, I have 
a wifely maid, one with kindness in her heart and one 
in whose dreams I hear strange mumblings that seem 
to mar the peace of wedded quietude; ” 

“Indeed ? That is too sad. Marriage at this phasis, 
I should surmise, needs a deal of something else. You 
are not unhappy with her are you?” 

“Well, confidentially, I am not unhappy, but yet I 
am not happy.” 

“Possibly your forces are not strong enough ?” 

“What do you mean ?” 

“Oh those arts of yours. Well, nothing of it, — it 
interests me scientifically.” 

“Yes? I shall tell you no more then.” 

“Oh, come to. You ought to know me well enough 
not to mind my silly jokes. Really, are you not getting 
on so well?” 

“Well now, it is this way. Dolee says that she loves 
me but she has never a kind word or a kiss for me. 
She never suggests a walk, though she walks out with 
others. She is willing to keep house and that’s the 
trouble, she keeps it closely when I am around. She 
never has a moment to spare for anything but pots and 
pans. I long always for something other than the 
word, I want the deed. I rescued her from indiffer- 
ence and got it myself.” 

“Oh, my poor Sondalere,” said Tanton apparently 
as sincere as a sorrowing friend could be, “I think that 


The Second Barbecue. 155 

the summum bonum of marriage must be other than 
that.” 

“Possibly she yet remembers Ondell Urmoden.” 

“Possibly it might be Tanton Torquay?” and he 
laughed heartily at the disconcerted Sondalere, who 
did not at all relish the thrust. 

Tanton felt at once that Sondalere was in sore mis- 
ease but he was glad of it. He deliberately intended 
to goad him to the point of exasperation, if possible. 
He burned with quenchless hate and Sondalere was 
the present focus of his evil thoughts. He longed 
for an opportunity of putting a heavy hand upon him, 
but hitherto fortune had not favored him. 

As he sat there and played' with his victim, his 
thoughts were desperate and terrible. An incarnation 
demoniac seemed to live in him. He breathed the 
atmosphere of destruction and annihilation. Too 
many things lived and bred on the air that sustained 
him, — it must not be. Some of them must not breathe 
with him. Swiftly through his keen brain rushed a 
thousand thoughts. “I am far from chemists and 
from the scientific search for death's faint causes. 
How little a philter brewed of the Nox, might give 
this cur his sommisl What a fine place and a conveni- 
ent time to give the coup de grace with a clement 
skill!” 

Yet he must play awhile and nerve himself up to 
the sticking point and drink more wine and his victim 
must drink yet more wine, that stupor might come up- 
on him. Tanton Torquay was a fine grained, skilful, 
artistic and merciful criminal, his destructiveness was 


l 5 6 


Ondell and Dolee. 


of the insearching, melting kind, not the violently tear- 
ing out and desperately smashing. His talk indicated 
that he was quick and desperate and that passed for 
braggadocio and counted for nothing serious. His 
thoughts were always the reverse of his words and if 
his actions bespoke of hasty temper, his real purpose 
was so slow and calculating and so long to the end 
that others had forgotten his threats and never sus- 
pected him. He could not help it, of course not, — the 
serpent was born in him and for whatever purpose 
in the plan of a possible infinite succession of lives, 
passing down through the circle of lives, from the 
genesis to the nirvana, from step to step of suffering’s 
developments, — he had his destiny to fulfill and his 
story is simply his story, for it cannot tell of the main- 
spring of the motive far back, — perhaps ingrained and 
inbred in a thousand years, — he hated, — hated his 
brother and sister, he must not be crossed, he was a 
survival of the tiger in the soul that had not been re- 
leased from it by the soul’s infinite evolution. 

“Go on, you interest me, Sondalere, my dear friend, 
I never suspected that marriage was so deucedly ro- 
mantic. So you have lover’s longings after the event 
as well as before? Who’d a thought it!” 

“You are rudely jesting with a sacred subject. I 
was telling you confidences, like a fool that I am, up 
to my ears in wine and you are making sport of me.” 

“Not at all ! I declare Sondalere, you are half a 
child at times. I am sorry for you, sorry that she does 
not love you, sorry, — ” 

“Who the hell said that she did not love me? I said 

-v - 


M, 


The Second Barbecue. 


157 


that she was indifferent, that is what I said, but that 
does not mean that she has no use for me. She loves 
me more than any man but, — but, you see, — this is 
how it is, — she is like all women when the knot is tied, 
she thinks that settled it all and the rest is understood. 
She has her mind on her confounded pots and pans 
all the time and I don't want to appear so childish as 
to call her attention to the fact that I am lonely and 
what not, I say damn the pans and the pots, but I get 
off to myself and say it so that she cannot hear me.” 

“Yes, I see it all now. You want her to love you 
without being reminded of the fact that she ought to. 
In fact, she ought to know enough to make much of 
you and pull your cheek and kiss your dimple and run 
her dainty fingers through your hair, without being 
told to do so. Is that it?” 

“I think that is about it.” 

“That is what we are married for, — to have the use 
of each other, said a friend of mine describing a simi- 
lar case and you are out at the matrimonial elbow. 
The fact is that you made a mistake, you thought that 
you were doing a smart trick when you abducted this 
charming lady into slavery, — that is about the whole 
of it.” 

“You are positively insulting, I will talk no more 
with you on this subject. Instead of being a counsellor 
and a friend you are stabbing me in a tender place. I 
have not forgotten our interview of a year ago. You 
swore to your revenge then.” 

“My dear Sondalere, how you wrong me. I know 
that you are nobody and nothing and that you have 


158 


Ondell and Dolee. 


played false to every friend, but for all that I like you 
„ and I am willing to let the past be past. I did not 
mean to insult you, but of course, if you are deter- 
mined to be insulted, I cannot say that you are right, 
but I do not care, — not a whit!” 

“No, you care not. You have a habit of not caring. 
It is not in you to care for anything, I know that. You 
are as base a man as I ever met, that is all there is of 
that.” 

“Wine is talking now, friend Sondalere, nothing 
but the glory of the supernaculum, — the devil with it 
all ! Drink it to the dregs and the last drop upon the 
thumb, — to-day is our annual barbecue, friend Son- 
dalere.” 

“You have no right to insult me as you have. I 
insist that you owe me an apology.” 

“Yes, — a foot long. I merely said that I did not 
understand by what miserable trickery you won a tru- 
ant bride. She loved me, and as for you, had I dreamt 
of you, — I tell you as your friend, — had I known that 
you were to stand in my light, I’d surely have been 
early desperate. But when I saw that the game went 
against me, I resigned in sorrow. I suppose, that, like 
many other girls, she went love-wild for any old thing 
and then any worthless cur sufficed.” 

“Do I understand you to say that I am a cur?” 
asked Sondalere unsteadily. 

“Why, dear no, — not you. Of course, not you. 
Speaking generally, let’s have another drink for a bet- 
ter understanding. They say that the tempter is really 


The Second Barbecue. 159 

the true friend of humanity. I would try your mettle, 
— friend Sondalere, that is all/ ? 

“You have tried me too roughly to-day.” 

“Oh, well, ” Tanton as he filled the glass, 

looked up and through the open branches of the great 
vine, saw one coming to the arborium. So unex- 
pected was the sight that he forgot to continue his 
banter, — instantly the scene changed, for it was none 
other than Ondell Urmoden. 

He leisurely came to the arborium and looked in. 
Tanton had gotten up and went to meet him with out- 
stretched hand and ready smile. He was not easily 
surprised, but this unexpected turn-up had, only for a 
moment, completely upset him. He was caught in the 
moment of a deadly act, as it were, but by the time he 
had shaken hands with Ondell his old feeling of assur- 
ance had returned to him. 

“How have you fared,— you are looking well, — 
your trip has benefited you, — when did you return? 
Just now? Indeed, quite a pleasant surprise,” and 
Tanton was courtliness itself. 

Ondell had returned the effusive greeting in a mat- 
ter of fact way; he was not given to over-civility at 
any time. Walking up to the table where Sondalere 
sat with his head on his elbows, half a dozing, he laid 
his hand upon his shoulder, not knowing who it was. 
Sondalere roused himself and turned up his head. In- 
stantly his face blanched and a coward and a craven 
sat there. 

“You seem well at your ease,” said Ondell, and then 
he paused and waited a long time as if debating 


i6o 


Ondell and Dolee. 


whether or not to provoke quarrel, or to let the past 
be buried in forgetfulness. "You are a traitor, I be- 
lieve.” 

Sondalere regained some of his normal composure 
and looked at Ondell unsteadily, for the wine bore 
him down. 

"Perhaps. I was simply the better man; she wanted 
me and me she’s got. I think you ought to know 
enough to let such things alone.” 

Ondell had not expected such a retort; he did not 
know that the wine had nerved the docile Sondalere. 
Tanton sat at the table, and upon the instant compre- 
hended that there would be an encounter between the 
men. 

"This will be the moment in which to give mine 
enemy a trial by tanghin, — if he vomit it, he is inno- 
cent; if not, then forsooth some one is guilty, — ah, 
glorious sunket that my friend, the sailor, brought far 
from the shores of Africa and for his pains shall meet 
in hell with Jimmy Squarefeet, — now I may use you 
and no man in these parts, can analyze the poison, — ” 
Tanton’s thoughts rushed upon him in a torrent, and, 
unable to resist the impulse, he cast a dainty powder 
into the glass of Sondalere. 

Ondell had, at the words of Sondalere. fixed his 
gaze intently upon him and for moments seemed to 
hesitate. The tiger had roused within him, he was a 
powerful man, the year had brought him vast exertions 
of a physical nature, he had tramped the world relent- 


Note. — Jimmy Squarefeet, a sailor’s devil. 


The Second Barbecue. 


161 


lessly and his sinews were hard with exposure, — then 
he struck at Sondalere and the latter fell. 

But he got himself up quickly and, as if partly 
aroused from his intoxication, and once into the fight, 
he stood on the defensive. 

“Here, friends, a fair fight. And before, — drink 
with me a sip of wine to the exaltation of your cour- 
age.” Tanton handed the glass of Sondalere to On- 
dell. Then he seemed to realize his mistake. Then 
he thought that it mattered not, it was better so. He 
had not thought of this, but one was as much in the 
way as the other. 

‘Til drink with you,” said Sondalere, “and then, Sir 
Ondell, you and me are to settle this squarely.” 

“As you will,” replied the latter. 

Sondalere reached over the glasses and took hold of 
that of Ondell as if to be as offensive as possible. Tan- 
ton dared not say anything, — anything that he did 
would be suspicious. Then only and not before this 
moment, did he realize the enormity of his act. He 
struggled with himself and thought to strike down 
the fatal cup, but something restrained him. It was 
almost as if the fear of the thing had brought on 
paralysis. Before it would be too late, — ah, it was too 
late, — Sondalere drank and then set the glass down. 

Tanton grasped it and crushed it under his foot, and 
Ondell turned towards him in surprise, but the next 
instant something surprised him more than that. 

“What? Not drinking with me?” exclaimed Son- 
dalere, and, seizing the remaining glass of wine, he 
dashed it into Ondell’s face. 


162 


Ondell and Dolee. 


The latter sprang at him with all his long pent fury 
and with perhaps a mind bleached with many myste- 
rious essences, and for a moment the struggle between 
the men was terrific. 

Slowly then Sondalere sank down with the blood 
gushing from his nose and Ondell stood back, his first 
paroxysm of rage somewhat subsided. 

Sondalere said something and Tanton bent over 
him. 

‘There is a heavy black mist before me. I cannot see 
things. I fear the world because I cannot see. I 
dream only of voices. What is it? Oh, — what is it?” 

His body became limp and deathlike. 

“It is but a fainting/' said Ondell. 

“No, it is more than a swoon,” answered Tanton 
with a voice of melancholy, “the man is dying.” 

“What?” asked the terrified Ondell. 

“As I said. Soon this is rigor mortis. To-morrow 
perhaps, a funeral. Fly before the people come. You 
have killed him.” 

“Oh, God, no! I have not done this thing!” 

“My dear friend, these reliquae speak their own tale. 
Go, — I will care for your property as I have done. 
Send me .a cipher, that I may communicate with you. 
Go, — go ! The ends of earth !” 

“No. I go nowhere. Life has not of late pleased 
me. This is the place to end the tragedy.” 

“Do not think of it. Self-murder is not the thing. 
Come, — I will be your friend. I will say that it was 
a fight, that he was the aggressor. You stand for in- 
voluntary manslaughter, — the penalty will be light. 


The Second Barbecue. 163 

There will come other days and brighter hours. 
Come, be rational.” 

“Tanton! Tanton! for the love of God, stand by 
me and I will give you half of my possessions.” 

“Very well, we will see to all that at a more con- 
venient time. Ho there, somebody ! Come here !” 

A very surprised people rushed into the arborium 
and Tanton told them what had happened. “Let us 
remove the body to the home and you may also take 
charge of the prisoner who voluntarily remains here 
and who knows he must comply with the formalities 
of law. Be easy with him, he is a gentleman.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


AN UNPLEASANT INTERVIEW BETWEEN TORQUAY AND 
ELOINE IN WHICH PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL 
POISONS ARE DISCUSSED. 

It was the day after the barbecue. Tanton was a 
sadder man; something had come into his life that 
stole the greenth from the leaves and the music from 
the babbling brook. He had so steeled himself in a 
concentration of his own cynical philosophies that he 
believed that such a thing as reproach could no longer 
affect him. But it seemed otherwise. He reproached 
himself unconsciously. Whenever he thought of any- 
thing, the next moment his thoughts wandered back 
to the scene in the arborium. There was after all such 
a thing as conscience. 

As he rode along this morning in that vague unrest 
and suppressed fear, he was indeed unhappier than he 
had ever been in his life, and often he had been very 
unhappy, — intensely melancholy and in utter gloom. 
All that was not a consequence to the dejection he now 
experienced. His dismalness was not in the least re- 
lieved by seeing at this moment Eloine Terren. She 
rode as if to meet him. There was no way to avoid 
her, much as he wished that he could. 

''Good morning, Tanton Torquay,” she said coldly, 


Tanton Finds a Witness. 165 

and her manner was so distant that it at once arrested 
his attention. He had been accustomed to effusive 
and tender greetings from her and he expected the 
same this morning, but he got so chilly a look that he 
thought to himself that even she must wish to desert 
him. 

To one of his nature, much as he wished at all other 
times that she might find it convenient to leave him 
alone, this was a disagreeable surprise this morning. 

“What is the matter with you, Eloine?” They had 
stopped by the roadside and their horses nipped the 
grass and pulled the reins down to their ears. Eloine 
reached for hers, but it was too far down and Tanton 
dismounted to hand it to her. 

“Hew could you do that?” she asked with a tone of 
sad reproach. 

“I don’t understand you.” 

“Tanton, before God!” 

“Well?” Tanton’s face blanched, and he knew it. 

“Tanton ! oh, God ! how could you do it ?” She 
wrung her hands in anguish. 

“Do what?” he asked as completely unnerved as it 
was possible for him to be. All the fear and gloom 
of this morning and of the restless night seemed to 
have concentrated upon him. 

“I stood back of the arborium, Tanton, and I saw 
you put something into the glass of Sondalere. Oh, 
the horror of it !” 

“I?” he asked weakly, but now that there was a 
witness and he faced the desperate crisis, his courage 
began quickly to gather in the instinct of self-preser- 


Ondell and Dolee. 


r66 

vation. “I did that? Girl, you mistake. I did noth- 
ing of the kind.” 

“Yes, you did something of that kind. And as a 
result the man is dead.” 

“Ondell killed him. He struck him so savagely that 
he ruptured a blood vessel in the brain. You are 
wrongly accusing me. I’d kill you for that,” he said, 
with his bravado returning. 

“No doubt,” she answered defiantly. “I am sur- 
prised that you' have not long since given me a quietus, 
since you are so adept at it. I tremble when I think 
of all that I have passed through with you.” 

“Oh, for love of goodness, stop teasing me, Eloine.” 

“No. You have taken my honor and you can take 
my life if you wish. Both have been thrown away on 
you, and what is left of either is at your disposal. 
Nonetheless I saw the dastardly deed; discreetly I 
stood back and smoldered down the strong impulse to 
shriek aloud at such a crime. Would you have the 
witness? Here is a secluded place where I may die, 
and you may hide me until the day of judgment and 
no one will then know of it but God and Tanton. 
And of the two, it will be safest with God. I am ready 
for the sacrifice, — are you ?” 

Tanton startled at these words, colder and more des- 
perate were they than any resolution that had ever 
bound his stubborn mind; the intenseness of courage 
of this woman was something that impressed him as 
marvelous. He was silent, carefully resting his 
nerves until they became more normal. At length he 


Tanton Finds a Witness. 167 

said slowly, with a return to his former and usual 
habit of blasphemous speech : 

“Eloine, my dear, you need not leave me to God, a 
great many of my friends do not settle their bills there, 
they want an earthly accounting. See here, I have 
had a desperate struggle with fortune and just as I 
see daylight coming, you seek to destroy all my pros- 
pects.” V 

“Tanton, the light you see is the reflection of hell.” 

“No matter, then. I have always been the under 
dog. I got nothing as good as I ought to have had it, 
but as good as I could get. I would rather be a lead- 
ing dog than a dead lion. I have struggled for you 
in this.” 

“I would not share it with you ! Base as I am, I am 
too noble for that!” 

“Dang it, woman! You are perverse like all wo- 
men. What matters it, one more or less, so long as 
we can be great and rich. Let the dead alone. Let 
Ondell go to prison. I get half his belongings to send 
him there.” 

“And the hour of vengeance?” 

“Yours has come, — if you wish it.” 

“No, — not mine. I could not disgrace the father of 
my son. I am chained to perdition with you in the 
blood that I have borne. You have damned us and it 
grieves me to know that the sins of the father shall 
be visited on the son, — and the mother? God help 
her!” 

“Why will you talk of this ? Let it be alone. I am 
as I am. I have a standard of my own. I look at life 


i68 


Ondell and Dolee. 


differently than you do. One lion has but killed the 
other in the battle for supremacy. I am as the beast 
of the field, — Eloine, I am as the beast of the wild 
woods.” 

“Yes, Tanton, — as the beast of the field.” 

“Not so, either. I am more than the beast of the 
field, for I love you with enduring love, and would 
some day make you happy. You offered me but a mo- 
ment ago your life. I wish it even as it is offered, but 
in another sense. You must combine your interests 
with mine, — a thing that you have never done, — on 
the contrary, you have instead gotten in my way; re- 
verse your methods, together we can fight the battle; 
apart, we are as children crying in the wilderness. 
Come, come, Eloine, brace yourself for the final issue 
of this thing. Since you have seen it all, you have seen 
the fight, the desperate encounter, the maddened fury 
of the aggressor, dwell on that at the trial and leave 
me to remember but faintly what did happen. Do you 
understand ?” 

“And what of the man with swollen throat and 
staring eyes, of open mouth and pinched, cold and 
stark feature ; he whose fingers are fixed in a last con- 
vulsion, he looks at you and is but an image and a 
transient marble that the winds shall smother into 
dust, but to you he must ever be an accuser. His 
earth shall fade and your mind is written with that 
earth in all its depths forever.” 

“Oh, hush, for God’s sake! You’d make the strong 
man weak. I did but surprise him while he slept on 
the wine-washed banks. I kissed him on the brow and 


Tanton Finds a Witness. 


169 

he was no more. I served the hand of fate, — uncon- 
sciously, — unwillingly, — but fate had selected me for 
its executioner and for a reason that I know not.” 

“One would suppose from your words that painful 
knowledge had come to you out of unconscious bliss, — 
Oh, Tanton, I cannot forget this awful picture. How 
could you do this? Has your manhood rotted out of 
you? Will you crawl down to the beast?” 

“Let it be, my dearest Eloine. It is crime, and 
crime touched with the drip of sweetest romance. For 
love of others, I have staked my life.” 

“Have you, indeed?” 

“Life is what we make it. You remember our last 
promise? I will make it good. You will not testify 
against the man who seeks you for a wife. You will 
love me too much. We have common interests, as you 
said.” 

“And why not now ? It is not far to the county line, 
— if indeed you are so honest as you wish me to be- 
lieve you.” 

“Only, that it would seem suspicious to marry now. 
The trial must be ended and some time elapse. Peo- 
ple might suspect collusion. Ondell committed this 
murder. I gave him a sleeping powder seeing that he 
was violent. It may be that his heart was weak. It 
may be that at his vitals gnawed a lingering sore that 
brought him to the very edge where but a push was 
needed to throw him off the cliff. He died too 
easily, something ailed him. But enough of this. On- 
dell holds that which is essential to us. That we can 
get from him. I will have his written paper before 


Ondell and Dolee. 


170 

night, as I ride now to make my reports and will see 
him at the jail, I will show it to you; wait for me 
to-morrow at the mansion. I will return by four 
o’clock; have ready the coffee and my room. 

“Tanton, I dare not again believe in you!” 

“My dear, you’ve got me where you’ve got to be- 
lieve in me. I cannot get out of it, even had I a wish 
to do so. You will hold the whip over me and you 
will have means to persuade me.” Tanton actually 
forced a smile. 

“Well,” she said resignedly, “ you must escape un- 
whipped from this it seems. You are born to luck. I 
am at the point where the soul is sold. My love had 
once so overcome my pride that all I had on earth I 
gave for love. I have not retained one hairbreadth of 
shame. I have not left me enough of that sublime 
moral courage that I would not give another’s life to 
gain the end of my own affections. I am truly cursed 
for the sins that you have brought upon me. I see no 
other way than to follow you down, — down into the 
depths of hell. There is nothing for me left, but 
Tanton soiled and Tanton steeped in crime, — I am his 
slave, — one of the victims of his crime that am held 
in abject subjection.” 

“Do not say that.” 

“I might throw it off? I might be noble! I need 
not compound a felony ! No, I need not do it. But 
my heart was bad enough to fall under you at first, it 
is too weak to resist you at last. I might be honest! 
But I am not. I might have been an honest wife, a 
virtuous mother, and have dwelt in a paradise on 


Tanton Finds a Witness. 


171 


earth, but I was too weak to hold my virtue against 
the storm and being weak, — I am weak, and I must 
grovel with you and crawl down to the beast, and 
swear falsely and perjure myself that I may not now 
be greater than I was when first I met you. And in 
your time you might bid me go out and kill for you, 
and, being weak, I must yield. Tanton, I have suf- 
fered. God knows how bitterly I have suffered.” 

“Oh, my ! Do not rave so about it. What’s done is 
done. I have’ fulfilled the stings of youth and carried 
out the laws of my predestiny. I am as a wind-tossed 
wreck that flies on the wandering wave, only that.” 

“Very well,” said Eloine sadly. 

“I must go. The way is long and gloomy. It is 
thirty miles to the court-house. Good bye, good bye, 
sweetheart, you will not falter? You will not desert 
me? I shall be so uneasy until I see you again. You 
will not let your tongue slip in this matter, Eloine?” 
His voice had assumed that insinuating and melting 
quality that it usually had. It was the gift of elo- 
quence, the soft drip of the sweet word, the magnetism 
whose unconscious art is greater than any power on 
earth. 

“No, I will not make any mistake, Tanton, I will be 
careful. You need not be anxious about me.” 

Tanton rode on and after a while his feelings be- 
came desperate. The lonely woods heightened the 
sense of loneliness. A certain capacity for perceiving 
the sublime was his, now it proved a burden, for it 
furrowed his mind with intense imagination. 

“To hell with these fears,” he exclaimed at length 


172 


Ondell and Dolee. 


impatiently. "Our business on earth, said a wiser man 
than me, is to enact hell. The villain always holds 
his own. There is one plane where all the world is 
alike and there am I. Why am I not a peaceful man? 
Oh, average men are not the stuff of which to make 
great and interesting men. Let me be true to my na- 
ture. Let me enjoy crime. After all the tendency to 
crime is an inducement to virtue. Those who are 
always doing wrong are ever in condition of needing 
all their friends. That kills haughtiness. It makes 
me humble and fits me for repentance and contrition/' 

Night came swiftly upon the evening. Weary and 
hungry, Tanton still rode and the lights on the hills 
told him of the supper hour. Here were innocent 
homes where peace and childhood dwelt in heaven. 
Here were trysting places in the progress of the great 
comedy or the great drama of life, whichever it might 
be, and for him, he was crossed, he had no happy tryst- 
ing place, the choice of his mind was stolen, — now per- 
haps, that she was free and saddened by experience 
might he again hope to win favor in her eyes. Ondell 
was not to be feared, who but Tanton would be the 
inevitable choice, that is, — after a suitable time? 

"Tanton, Tanton," he kept repeating to himself, 
"you must be brave and cool in this matter and you 
will profit greatly. Some days go wrong, Tanton, 
they go wrong, and the misty cloud falls upon them, — 
some days are cold and sunshine fails to come, — the icy 
heart, — the frozen hand, — some days bring heat, the 
noontide burns the heart with fever and with weariness 


Tanton Finds a Witness. 173 

and then there rests a sleepiness. Oh, life is a 
wonderful mystery !” 

Not many miles remained now, the long road came 
to an end in the peaceful village among the hills, where 
a few houses, a courthouse, a jail and two lodging 
houses stood, strung out on little eminences, as it 
were, — a village, miles from riverway or railway, — a 
lonely place, if ever there was one. It was the county 
seat of a wild county and only in the valley of the 
Bourbese stood stately homes and rich farms, in the 
woody hills lived a rough, peculiar people, they who 
had been driven from the east to the west and who had 
followed the game into the wildernesses and migrated 
from one state to another, to get away from civiliza- 
tion, until they could go no farther — and who had 
hunted down the buffalo and the bear and the deer, 
who had driven the gentle and brave Alkansas and 
their allies, the Kappas and Mitchiganians, into the 
lands of the more nomadic peoples of the west, — into 
the lands of the Lastekas and the Nassonites and dared 
not follow them, — here they maintained their cabins 
and plugged the sugar tree and robbed the honeybee. 

Their thriftier sons tilled the soil and when the 
old hunter died, his flintlock lay undisturbed on the 
deer horns over the door, — a relic of the old man, for 
the young man got his beef at the Saturday afternoon 
beef shoot. 

Tanton’s thoughts still pursued him and he felt that 
this had been the longest day that he had ever lived 
through. “I shall sleep to-night,” he said to himself 
“but a wakeful, watchful sleep, such as a hunted stag 


174 


Ondell and Dolee. 


may find when his heart burns with fear. What a 
joy indeed, to be a stupid o.x, to fall down into dream- 
less death and while he slumbers on, there is no care 
to break his spell. Rest? — -Like the wary hare 
at night, lightly asleep, but ready to bound forth with 
the rustling of a wind-blown leaf. Rest? — Like some 
wise man without care who seeks his couch* secure 
within the peaceful land and bare of midnight vio- 
lence. Ah, — what changeful spells, what shadows are 
flitting by to alarm the watchful heart, — that yet must 
sleep !” 

Then Tanton seemed to arouse himself from his rev- 
erie and he spurred on his horse, seeing that the 
journey was nearly done. 

"Dang it, anyway, "he exclaimed impatiently, I 
must not be a baby!” 



CHAPTER XV 


TANTON TORQUAY TELLS GERAND OF A MURDER TRIAL 
AND OF AN UNCOMFORTABLE SITUATION FOR ONE 
OF THE WITNESSES. 

“Well, it is done. Ondell was found guilty and got 
ten years in durance. Poor fellow, poor fellow, he 
expected two, but then he might have gotten twenty. 
He ought to be satisfied. Some of us get a bad deal, 
friend Gerand, a bad deal.” 

“Yes, it is a great misfortune. I suppose you did 
not lose your head about the property question? We 
are assured here for the time?” 

“Well, — I will attend to that. Some things are in- 
decent if too hastily done. He was so outdone over his 
new engagement as arrier e-vassal , — ” 

“Talk United States, please.” 

“I will see him again when he is more accustomed to 
his new situation. He is pervicacious to a trifle more 
than I relish and that, with his homicidal disposition, 
makes me cautious. He would not even talk to me 
when I went to console him, — I believe, upon my life, 
that he had acquired a sensation of intelligence, — ” 

“Tell me about the 'trial, the devil take his disposi- 
tion, all men under the influence of cocktails are dan- 
gerous. He’ll kill you soon enough, don’t worry.” 

“Well, I said in substance, that I took it to be in- 


ij6 


Ondell and Dolee. 


voluntary manslaughter, that in my capacity as deputy 
coroner I had adjudged that the deceased died of brain 
paralysis superinduced by the rupture of a blood ves- 
sel of the brain in the region back of the left eye. 'A 
queer proceeding, all of it/ said the prosecuting attor- 
ney, Tm a mind to have the corpse disinterred and 
have another examination made/ Then I thought of 
the quicklime that I had fixed him up with and I 
thought that in the interests of truth and justice I 
ought not to have put that in. ‘Well/ said I ‘you may 
do that/ I could not do otherwise than I did in the 
strict interests of the law. Miles are long in Aqui- 
tania and doctors are scarce, but you see, your honor, 
I was a deputy coroner before the commission of this 
crime and I happened to be present at the fight between 
the defendant and the deceased. I was not there by 
choice, it was accidental, had I known that homicide 
was about to be committed, naturally in the interests 
of my dignity as an officer of this county I would have 
been somewhere else. And/ says I, ‘the defendant 
does not deny the essential accusations and the young 
lady has proved them and Tm sure she’s a most un- 
willing witness. To be frank this defendant might 
easily have escaped had he wished to do so, I advised 
him to remain and take his chances with a case of in- 
voluntary manslaughter.” 

“You did?” asked the gump of an attorney, “you 
seem to be very friendly to the defendant.” “Yes, says 


Note. — Aquitania. Ancient name of Gascony. Now used 
poetically. 


Gerand Hears the Verdict. 177 


I, such is the case. But I do not defend him and I try 
to tell the truth, being neither for or against him.” 

"But the lady tells a story of a desperate encounter 
wherein a strong, well trained athlete was against a 
weak man and of beating him into insensibility while 
you seem inclined to take it lightly as if in some way 
the deceased had fallen against a stone and fractured 
his skull.” 

"I beg your honor’s pardon, says I, there we»re no 
stones there. I said that the deceased come out of 
it with a blood vessel ruptured, anyway, says I, you 
can take it whichever way you like it, the young lady 
might have added blood to her imagination and have 
seen more than I did, I am sure that she would not 
willingly or knowingly harm this defendant or do 
aught to convict, indeed, I am satisfied that she told 
the truth as it appeared to her, possibly she is entirely 
right, I was drinking that day and might have been 
fuddled.” 

"You are a queer witness, Doctor Torquay,” says 
that lynx-eyed spectacled fellow who seemed to have 
been born in a dubious frame of mind, "I don’t like 
this case,” said he. 

"Well, who does?” said I, hotly, "I’m sure I’m not 
fond of it. I see a friend and one of our most highly 
respected citizens in jeopardy and I don’t relish it one 
bit.” 

Ondell looked at me gratefully as I said this. 

"Your remarks are entirely gratuitous,” said the at- 
torney, "you show partiality to the defendant every 
timt you open your mouth.” 


i 7 8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


T’m sorry to be misunderstood,” says I. 

'That will do,” says the lawyer as though he feared 
that I might make a bad break somewhere else. 

"Well, that ended as all things will end and the poor 
devil is doing time now.” Tanton said no more then 
for Gerand seemed to have arrived at one of his mo- 
ments of logic or melancholy or something that set 
his brain to working. 

"Murder, these days,” said Gerand, "is so simple a 
thing, shoot, cut, poison, almost every hour, some- 
where a fellow meets a violent end. The thread is so 
easily cut and so many people are inclined all the time 
to do the cutting that the spirit that is upon the people 
is something awful to contemplate. There is no belief 
in a hereafter to put in restraint, no withholding moral 
force, man looks upon his fellow as an animal whose 
life is not of consequence, that it requires but a little 
courage to nerve the hand to do him death, here to- 
day, one is clubbed to death, another is found in the 
river, this one in the underbrush with his throat cut 
and here is one with several buckshot through his 
chest. One would imagine that it needs a wonderful 
nerve to do these deeds, if so, wonderful nerve is 
dreadfully common. Murder stalks about everywhere 
and no man seems restrained by conscience or by a 
feeling of love, kinship or brotherliness, it is simply 
awful.” 

"Yes, it is terrible,” said Tanton simply, though in 
fact the words impressed him greatly, "there is ap- 
parently no limit. And as there is no hereafter there 
is no reason why one might not profit by the incautious 


Gerand Hears the Verdict. 179 


situation of one of his fellows. If there is no reckon- 
ing, if there is nothing in any of the trifles of people’s 
beliefs then why should one worry about the death 
of one of his fellows?” 

“The soul, friend Tanton, the soul is dwarfed, 
ruined, damned, that is what they say.” 

“Foolish. Granting that there is a soul and that it 
is immortal, that in itself is proof palpable of its in- 
destructibility. If one can pare the soul’s finger nails 
or remove, dwarf o‘r destroy the least fraction of it, 
then he can by the process of multiplication, destroy 
all of it and then it is not immortal. That is the solid- 
est bit of argument ever thought of. What can the 
difference be what crimes I commit if they cannot alter 
in the least my soul ?” 

“Friend Tanton, I’m a countryman and know 
precious little. I cannot dissect that argument. But 
there is something in flesh and blood that tells me that 
it is wrong. That is about as far from the truth as I 
ever got and I know it.” 

“You do not mean, ” 

“Yes, I mean that as sure as you live, you shall 
answer for your sins.” 

“Particularly me?” 

“No, not you, I mean generally. There is a Ruling 
Spirit and justice is His Will !” 

“When were you converted ?” asked Tanton dryly. 

“Never. I am quite unregenerate. I don’t care. 
The other place does not worry me. I’ll get to that 
worry soon enough. I simply don’t care.” 

“Then you are a brave man. You believe that the 


i8o 


Ondell and Dolee. 


devil is after you and you don’t care. That is what I 
call nerve,” said Tanton. 

“By God, it’s so, nerve or no nerve,” replied Gerand. 

“Oh fudge,” said Tanton, who did not like the con- 
versation, “every fellow who comes to this fumid old 
house gets serious at once. Science, not literature 
or religion, is the positive influence of our day. Men 
have talked to nature in her varied moods and are en- 
franchised of her freedom. They have come to 
a larger conscience, a vaster comprehension. They 
see things differently. What frightened people years 
ago is now a common joke. Murder has happened 
in all ages and under the most varied and picturesque 
conditions. It is no new thing. The consciousness 
that it was a mortal sin and met with unpardonable 
punishment arose some two thousand years ago under 
the name of Christianity. Before that it was a regular 
business and there was no sheol perpended to it. 
After the rise of that religion men began to imagine 
things about murder. There was something wrong 
about it. It called for brimstone furnaces. The 
idea became deeply rooted. I tried to get back to the 
two thousand years or more that have gone and to 
eradicate the idea of the dreadfulness of murder from 
my mind. I have come to that rich hour in life where 
life and death are incidents and there is as little sin in 
being the father of one life as there is in being the ex- 
ecutioner of another life. If it is murder unpardon- 
able to kill man then it is just as bad to father man, 
the rule works both ways.” 

“Well, of course,” said Gerand, “it’s a gift to be able 


Gerand Hears the Verdict. 181 


to roll an idea into a knob and knock a man over with 
it. I suppose you are entitled to some credit for being 
able to do that. I cannot argue with you but all the 
same I know better.’' 

“Why my dear Gerand, I could elucidate this subject 
to you until your hair would stand out like the business 
side of a clothes brush. It’s a great subject ! A thrill- 
ing subject!” exclaimed Tanton. 

“Yes, no doubt! I’m easily startled,” said Gerand, 
“but I don’t scare worth a cent.” 

Tanton thought it a bright bonmot and laughed 
heartily. He needed to laugh and to drink in order 
to throw off the profound unrest that had settled upon 
him. His stoic, optimistic, fool-happy philosophies 
did not save him from pernoctation. 

And Gerand was distressingly tantalizing this even- 
ing. It was not often that Gerand did any audible 
thinking, in fact, he passed for a countryman of lim- 
ited sittainments and whatever he thought, was natural 
thought, not that which is culled and elaborately pieced 
together. Ondell, Tanton and Sondalere, after their 
own fashions were thinkers and philosophers, but Ger- 
and had only half a dozen well defined ideas and he 
clung to his small stock tenaciously. Tanton continued 
the talk on a different line, he wanted to get away from 
unpleasant subjects so, as he usually did, he com- 
menced to discuss his projected literary effort. Some 
desultory words were passed concerning originality 
and Gerand found it unprofitable, — he was not literary. 

“Some years of reading,” continued Tanton, 
“crowds the brain with many good ideas of others. 


Ondell and Dolee. 


182 

We forget the connection and reissue them modified 
by our personality. The page of good things that 
waits to tell who said the several good things is a dull 
page. To please, it must glisten, gleam, be dot with 
diamonds and sprinkled with golden grained wit, the 
precious gem is the thing, where the brass that com- 
poses the plate that holds them came from is only of 
interest to those curious literary cross examiners who 
may at their infinite leisure find out when, how and 
by whom a good idea first arrived at chirographical 
eternity/’ 

“Um huh!” responded Gerand. “I’d rather sail 
a four wheeled dugout in a six mule breeze any time 
than write a book.” 

Tanton found this vein of conversation unprofitable 
because Gerand manifested an inclination to snooze 
over it. His mind was sore distressed. He felt un- 
easy, he felt nameless fear, he knew not how to express 
it. He drank heavily, the intoxication would not 
come to his relief. Like the weak brain of an Indian, 
who, having experienced the strange brightness of 
intellect that came after drinking the fire water and 
who longs again to bring his feeble brain up to the 
heights, Tanton could not keep away from the subject 
that disturbed him. 

“Why do men commit crimes?” he asked and Ger- 
and awoke to the question. 

“Why do men commit crimes? What will not men 
with starving children dare? What great excitement 
stirs the nerve when the cry of anguish is heard? 
When the body starves and is filled with the anguish 


Gerand Hears the Verdict. 183 


of many wants, real or imaginary, sane or diseased, I 
say, what will not men with starving children do?” 

“You are right there. Under such conditions all 
men and especially all women are corruptible.” 

“Especially all men and mostly all women, I should 
think,” said Gerand. 

“Women over forty years of age are worse than 
men.” 

“I disagree. They are all alike. The men long for 
all the women and the women desire every man, but 
their modesty and their training holds them better in 
check.” 

“D’ye think so?” queried Tanton with a vague 
smile. 

“Yes, all women have the inclinations of the cour- 
tesan. That phase of social evil is woman giving free 
rein to a natural inclination. The enviroments of 
society and the long in-breeding of a certain delicacy 
serves to hold a majority of women within bounds and 
the law attends to the men.” 

“Do you think that if all restraint was thrown off 
that the women would be worse than the men?” 

“No, but it would be a terrible state of affairs.” 

“I didn’t suppose that you cared about these things, 
not being altogether a pattern, my dear Gerand.” 

“Well, certain things are given to certain men. I 
have a profound respect for women and great sym- 
pathy for their weaknesses. My mother was in every 
respect an angel. Her state in life and all her sur- 
roundings made it an impossibility for her to be other 
than a perfect lady. I am glad of the conditions that 


184 


Ondell and Dolee. 


surrounded her because it made her life such that she 
has become to me an object of worship. If it hadn’t 
been for that, Tanton, my soul would be utterly des- 
titute for it has no capacity to worship anything but 
this. It is because of this that I am honest with 
women and let no man seduce them or speak ill of them 
if I can help it and if every one thought about it as I 
do, the barriers around our women would be so strong 
that temptation could never reach them.” 

"Holy Methodist! Are you sermonizing?” 

"No, but I tell you, Tanton, in older countries where 
experience rules the roost, women are kept in the 
harem and veiled and they’ve got to be good or die. 
In this country where the women are no better than 
they are there, it is not practicable to keep them in 
cages, so we must throw around them other safe- 
guards.” 

"Gerand, I always thought you to be a bad man, 
but it appears that you are a saint in disguise.” 

"You’re a liar. I’m nothing of the kind. I care not 
for taking other people’s money, it is a sore temptation 
to idleness and general cussedness and I would remove 
all such temptations. Money has no soul, but woman 
has a soul. Fooling with souls, Tanton, is a hell of a 
business.” 

"Don’t preach, please.” 

"Not much. But my ideas about women are strong, 
very strong.” 

"Yes, rather ammoniac.” 

"No twitting please, I won’t have it. My mother 
and all her sisters are goddesses after a fashion.” 


Gerand Hears the Verdict. 185 


“You ought to be a monk and be shy of the gender 
and get in your requisite quota of sin by robbing the 
poor for the benefit of Peter’s pence.” 

“Well, perhaps, ” 

“For myself, I believe in going out among the sis- 
ters and having a good time.” 

“A libertine, eh?” 

“No, not that, of course not.” 

“What is it then?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Give me a horsethief every time! He is not the 
enemy of society, sapping its foundations. His sins 
are individual, the sapper undermines the whole so- 
cial fabric. Murder is individual, but corrupting vir- 
tue is not individual, it is a' general crime against hu- 
manity and especially against civilized society, it 
strikes at me and every other man for the corruptions 
of men hundreds of years ago lowered the whole com- 
munity of women and made us the descendants of cor- 
rupt women. Had it not been for them we’d a come 
from honest mothers. The heads that were cracked 
and the purses that were lifted amount to no mention 
in history, but the hand of the libertine has written its 
history on you and me, ” 

“By jimminy !” 

“Yes, by jimminy! That’s the only .unpardonable 
sin that I know of. The dog that will lower one wo- 
man, will lower them all. He’s a viper and his head 
must go under the heel of honest men.” 

“Like Tanton and Gerand? Gerand, you are bor- 
rowing trouble and you are too cussedly serious. Wo- 


Ondell and Dolee. 


1 86 

men are for use and abuse and if one stood always 
discreetly and reverently back, the population might 
suffer. Oh, thunder! Take one wife, take a dozen!” 

“Yes, take one wife and if that is not enough take 
another, but be honest with them and don’t set up a 
loose example. If you would marry two women or a 
dozen, go to a country where that is permitted and do 
the square thing by them, ” 

“See here, Gerand, fill up that mouth with wine. 
By the way, since you are so virtuous you might be 
inclined to take my lady, who loves me so persistently 
and make something out of her, you can do it, I can 
not.” 

“Yes, I might. She appears to be a good girl.” 

“None better, I assure you. And incorruptible, — I 
assure you. Noble girl and her only fault is that she 
loves me and I love some one else. I would to God 
that she loved you.” 

“Sure enough? Tanton, I thought you made a 
monkey of that girl !” 

“Not on your life! She’s slightly demented as to 
my charms, that’s all and for the life of me I cannot 
be rude to her. Try to wean her from her delusions. 
And begin at once. She’s a good girl, Gerand, as 
far as I know and she needs a noble thinker like you 
to manage her.” 

“You are jesting.” Gerand filled his glass again and 
he was quite mellow already. 

“I am not jesting, do what you can for me, possibly 
you may find great good in her.” Tanton pulled out 
his purse and opened it. Gerand observed that is was 


Gerand Hears the Verdict. 187 


well filled and remarked, “Some one will rob you if 
they see that.” 

“No they won’t/' replied Tanton, “I’m in that bus- 
iness myself.” 

He handed Gerand a couple of bills. “Here, buy a 
new suit of clothes and try your hand at Miss Eloine 
Terren.” 

Gerand pocketed the money with a smile. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


ONDELL AIDED BY PHILLEO MAKES A .SUCCESSFUL RUN 

FOR LIBERTY AND SUBSEQUENTLY MEETS A REPENT- 
ANT SINNER IN A GRAVEYARD. 

The whole force of the blow that had fallen upon 
him, seemed not to have been realized by Ondell until 
after his first night had been spent on a narrow hard 
board in a cell with three other criminals. The coun- 
try jail was quite luxurious to this. There he had 
whatever he wanted by paying for it, here he had been 
deprived of everything, — even his hair they had be- 
grudged him. The night had been one of incessant 
thought. He reviewed the whole of his misfortunes 
and he arrived at the conclusion, whether or not it was 
true, that he had been a fool. 

“Ten years of this? Oh God, have mercy upon me! 
I suppose I might become accustomed to it and get 
hardened and uncaring, but all my life I shall be a 
convict and no gentleman will ever claim me for a 
friend! And Dolee? Oh, my soul, how have I fared 
in the destinies of the world ! I ought to have made 
my escape, — I have no business here. Confound it, 
why did I not go when I could? Dolee looked at me 
unflinchingly and I seemed to see a silent pleading in 
her eyes, I remember that look, perhaps she reproached 
herself that she had been the cause of it. I wonder if 


A Run for Liberty. 


189 

she yet has a kindly feeling for me? How accursed 
it was that Eloine Terren had to be around and see my 
misfortune, Tanton might have saved me had it not 
been for her. I do not understand this thing yet. 
She had no interest in convicting me, Tanton ought 
to have attended to her.” 

As the night wore on slowly, his fevered brain con- 
tinued to work unceasingly. Tears came into his eyes. 
He had faced the greatest degradation that could come 
to a man and he who was so sensitive, was more de- 
graded than most any other man would have been. 

“I must get out of this ! The governor must pardon 
me. Father did him a good turn once, but it would 
not look right for him to favor me at once. Some 
time must pass and I must endure it. They said I was 
to work in the office keeping books for these devils, 
that is not so very bad and Tanton said he would ar- 
range it for me to have an easy berth, I must try to be 
brave and endure it. Have I not always been a brave 
man? My heart has been courageous under every 
strain, I have never flinched, — will I be able to undergo 
this? I will not do it ! I will get out of here if I die 
the next minute. I will be free. I will not be dis- 
graced. I am disgraced. I will die and be done with 
it.” 

“Soy there, bunk three, keep your guzzle shut, will 
you?” said his brother in the lower tier and Ondell 
was mortified by the rebuke. He had unconsciously 
given voice to his sufferings and had disturbed his 
companions. 

After that he guarded himself better, but tossed 


Ondell and Dolee. 


190 

around in the greatest of misery until morning came 
and the bells sounded the hour of rising. Then he 
filed into the long room and sat at the table with all 
his brothers and emptied his tin cup and mechanically 
chewed his beef and bread. Then he marched into 
the office and his brothers went back into the shops 
to toil for the State. 

Ondell soon understood what was required of him 
and he wielded a ready and beautiful pen. He wrote 
calmly and steadily, copying, transcribing, trying to 
forget himself in the ardor of his new vocation. When 
the noon bell sounded he was sorry, for it was neces- 
sary for him to march back and rejoin his brothers in 
the long room for a while. He dreaded that, because 
he felt so ashamed of himself and in such abominable 
company. Then he marched back to his desk and 
plunged into his work again. He sat in a corner by 
himself and where he was, it was it was quite a lonely 
place. No one seemed to worry about him, except 
that occasionally, a guard walked by and peered over 
his shoulder to see that he worked. 

Suddenly he heard a voice that greatly surprised 
him and he looked up quickly. 

“Geezuz whizz/' exclaimed Philleo, who had, in his 
surprise, gotten his favorite exclamation turned 
around, “How in the name of, -" 

“Never mind about that, Philleo, what are you in 
for?" 

“In? Why dammit, I'm a guard. I got a job here." 

“Glad to hear it. So have I. Said I killed Sondal- 

ere," 


A Run for Liberty. 191 

“You astonish me, Ondell, you ain’t no business 
bein' here." 

“You might be good to me while I'm here, Philleo, 
for the old time's sake." 

“Right you air. I'll help you out some day." 

“How did you get in here?" asked Ondell. 

“Well, you see it war this-a-way. The people down 
thar elected the old man to the legislature and the gas 
company put three thousand dollars into an onvelope 
and put it into his desk for a vote. Then the people 
hearn of it and called a mass meetin'. They axed dad if 
it war so about that thar money. Yes, says Dad, I'm 
here to tell you that it is and furthermore that it beats 
raisin’ corn on poor land all to blazes. So to placate 
Dad, cause he had to resign, they got a place for me 
an’ I thought that this war next to the governorship 
when hearn about it, but it aint. 

However, so fur, it has beat raisin' corn on poor 
land, but I’d ruther be a clodhobber anytime. Say, 
you never killed that feller and if you did you done the 
right thing to him. You aint no business to be in 
here." 

“Let me out then." 

“I don't care if I do." 

“It will be worth more to you than your Dad's vote 
on the gas bill." 

“Don’t mention it. Anything that I kin do for an 
old friend and schoolmate I’ll do it cheerfully. But 
this is a sly business." 

“Philleo, I once thought that I could be satisfied 
with any fate and that life held so little for me, that 


192 


Ondell and Dolee. 


anywhere would do to pass it, but this is not what my 
melancholy imagined it to be. Misery does not love 
this kind of company. I’d rather be free and be a 
fugitive and an outcast, than a convict.” 

“Me too. And a guard is about the same thing as 
bein’ a convict. I’m tired of all of it ‘ceptin my salary. 
Say, I musn’t be here too long. This evenin’ when I 
get to the gate, you will git thar too and I’ll let you 
slip through. You make a dash for the house across 
the street and go over the palin’ fence like a cat before 
a brickbat. You’ll find the front lower room open 
and my clothes thar. Help yourself and then git out 
of town. If any one sees you makin’ that dash you’ll 
be a goner, if they don’t, you stand a good chance. 
Just before six thar’ll be a scarcity of guards round 
here and it will be gettin’ dusk this time o’ year. Af- 
ter you’re gone, I’ll raise the devil about it at once, so 
be careful.” 

“I’ll be quick enough and if, I get out I’ll stand by 
you Philleo.” 

“Don’t mention it. So long.” 

Philleo stauntered on unconcernedly and looking as 
stern as it was possible for him to look. “Darn it, 
I’ve got to be careful about that thar business,” he 
mused to himself, “but I can’t see his Royal Anxiety 
in this place, — gosh, it disturbs the aristocracy of our 
county. Oh, well, hellsfire, faint heart never sells on 
the installment plan. Gee whizzus, if they catch me 
at this thing, they’ll plaster me with hot hell shore. I 
must get around to the switchyard an’ see whose got 
the inside track this evenin’.” 


A Run for Liberty. 


193 


But Philleo was not a whit less daredevil than he 
was in the wild hills of Gascony and the peppery un- 
dertaking rather amused him. He cared not the least 
for the outcome so far as he was concerned, not more 
so than his Dad did, when he voted for the gas bill. 

Promptly, a little before six o'clock when the guards 
were superintending the march to the supper table, 
the iron gate opened for a second and a tall, powerful 
man slipped through and made the most famous run 
of his life. The distance was short, the place was 
lonely for the reason that the penitentiary was situated 
in a small town and its inhabitants did not care to live 
under the shadow of the penitentiary. The method 
of escape was simple and comparatively easy under 
these circumstances. 

Ondell lost no time in getting into the other clothes 
and picking up the blacking box rubbed his face with 
its contents and the next moment as good a counterfeit 
of a negro as the limited time could make one, walked 
out leisurely and down the road towards the woods. 

Under cover of the woods he ran as fast as he could 
and until he was tired out. Then he came to a small 
stream and after the manner of fugitives waded in it 
for a long time. Then he struck out again desperately, 
knowing that he had fifty miles to go before he 
reached home. His idea was to go Thousand Stair 
and let Tanton conceal him in the Cavern until some 
months had passed and then he would provide himself 
with means and go to a foreign land and renew the 
struggle for happiness. 

He believed that he could trust Tanton, had not 


194 


Ondell and Dolee. 


Tanton offered him this means of escape? Had he 
not befriended him? Yes, it was safe for him to do 
this, for once in Cavern Hall, no one would follow him 
there and he could easily be provided with food. He 
was rather elated at his safe delivery and his steps 
were stronger than they had been for some time pre- 
vious. The crime had weighed upon him and his de- 
pression of spirits had been something terrible, now he 
felt that he had thrown it all off and had essayed to 
begin life anew under another clime. 

Ondell walked all night and when morning came 
he took out a small piece of looking glass and carefully 
arranged his toilet so that a chance white spot on his 
cheek need not betray him. It was autumn now and 
the woods abounded with wild fruit, such as grapes, 
pawpaws and nuts. He soon found enough to satisfy 
his hunger and pushed on. He was an expert woods- 
man, having spent the greater part of his life in the 
tree-grown places amid the sweetness of the whisper- 
ing leaves. 

He did not fear capture, because in these woods, 
no man could be captured unless tracked by blood- 
hounds and this country had never had any such dogs. 
The authorities of the penitentiary themselves never 
expected to see him again and the pursuit was soon 
abandoned, because it was a useless pursuit. The in- 
habitants of this country were few and it was actually 
forty miles between stores. Occasionally, a house 
could be seen half a mile off from the stage road and 
there lived a woodsman who had been driven out of 
Virginia and then out of Kentucky and had finally set- 


A Run for Liberty. 


i95 


tied down to die in Missouri. The counties of Osage, 
Maries, Gascony and Phelps were in greater part 
wilderness. Where Ondell lived, a brisk settlement 
had been made, but he needed not to go far to strike 
Panky Hollow, the land of Thin Whiskers, Hookeydall 
and the Heelstring Nation. These were wild places 
where the “American” boys were in evidence, to the 
detriment of the foreign born. They were small set- 
tlements that subsisted almost wholly upon the game 
of the surrounding thirty or forty miles of wilderness. 
Ondell and his companions represented native or for- 
eign born families who had given up the chase for the 
farm and had prospered in consequence. They lived 
in big houses made of sawn limestone and cultivated 
the vine over the front gate, whereas, the others lived 
in log cabins with the coon skins tacked out to dry on 
its unhewn sides and they eat corn pone and smoked 
venison and defied the tax collector. 

On the evening of the day after his hasty exit from 
durance vile, Ondell found himself close to his home, 
in fact, about five miles away and on a little hill that 
stood in the forest. Perhaps an acre had once been 
cleared away and a heavy puncheon fence had been 
built around it. Then the trees had grown up again 
in many places showing that it had been for many 
years devoted to the purpose of the country’s burying 
ground. There were quite a number of graves there 
and at the head of some of them, a huge rock had been 
placed with the initials or the name of the deceased 
roughly hewed upon its side. In several places a 
pretentious slab of sandstone had been cut into a suit- 


196 


Ondell and Dolee. 


able size to cover the grave and had been raised over 
it by smaller rocks placed under it. One or two had 
marble tombstones which was proof palpable that they 
had come fifty miles at least over the rough country in 
an ox wagon. 

A lonelier place at night could not be imagined. 
Here Ondell found himself as the gathering darkness 
overtook him and he seated himself on one of the 
tombs to rest his weary legs and cogitate upon the 
problem of how to make himself known to Tanton, 
later in the night, without awakening the servants. 
Tanton alone must know of his arrival, he believed 
that he could trust his servants, but several of his 
friends had, before this, been caught in a bad place 
from too much believing. 

Ondell sat a long time in this dreary place and, in 
fact, dozed into a gentle slumber. He was very tired 
and very hungry. He wished that the journey was 
ended, he dreaded the remaining five miles. They 
seemed longer to him than the forty-five that he had 
walked since the night before. 

Then he was suddenly aroused by hearing a noise 
and not knowing what it was and being unarmed, he 
rolled down beside the grave and lay still. “I wonder 
if, after all, there are ghosts,” he said mentally, “no 
one could have business here at this hour.” The moon 
was not yet up and he could not see any one, yet he 
was conscious of the approach of footsteps. He was 
woodsman enough to know that the tread was not that 
of an animal. He heard the swish of a riding switch 
and yet nearer came the steps. Then he heard them 


A Run for Liberty. 


197 


no more and for a long time it was silent in the grave- 
yard, as it ought to have been at that hour of the night. 
He raised his head and peered about him. At a short 
distance from him he could barely distinguish the out- 
line of a man. He stood by one of the graves and his 
head was bowed. 

Ondell waited in breathless silence for something to 
occur and presently the nocturnal visitor broke into a 
soliloquy that revealed to him some things that he 
had not hitherto suspected, — so grave a doubt came 
into his naturally dubious disposition that he shud- 
dered to think of the chances that he ran with him, — 
this man must be surprised in the quiet of his chamber 
and discreetly bought out, — anything else was too 
dangerous to be entertained for a moment, — this 
thought came upon him, almost like a revelation. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


ONDELL, IN HIS DISGUISE, HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH 

TANTON AND THEN RESUMES HIS JOURNEY. 

As soon as Ondell heard the voice, he knew that it 
was that of Tanton and after all, this visit did not 
greatly surprise him, the solitary and unquiet doctor 
rode mostly at night to visit patients, he had been 
startled by him so many times, so often had Tanton 
slipped up upon him as he rode the highways, that 
this seemed quite a natural experience. 

But what his business might be was another matter. 
Then he began a rambling talk to himself and in- 
tensely secretive by nature, all that he said to himself, 
in the secret place would hardly have accused him of 
anything. The dreamy, tender voice of Tanton had 
never a better field wherein to air its beauties than 
in this lonely and of a certainty, secluded place. His 
thoughts and the expression he gave to them were 
sadly mismated, his fluency of language and natural 
vein of poetry, concealed so well his character, — in this 
respect, he was a gifted man and his art, in nobler 
pursuits might have been of great good, — it was ever 
thus, the shadow and the light were twain together 
and the brilliance of the light is offset by the blackness 
of the shadow. Yet, perhaps, nothing could so well 
illustrate the vagueness and doubt that filled his mind 


Ondell and Tanton. 


199 


as the rambling speech that he gave. Verily, he knew 
not, in the darkness of his time and place. The learn- 
ing of man was his sole refuge and he tossed about 
without an anchor. 

“Some men are distraught with despair, they im- 
agine that upon the air there might hang so doubtful 
a thing as the curse of Cain. At night, their dreams 
bring fears that will not away in the morning light. 
They cast a brand upon the face. I am afraid. Yes, 
I am afraid. Why do I tremble and sleep lightly ? Is 
it not imagination? Am I not master of my fancies? 
Indeed, I am not. What great art is it, what great 
art to put the pause upon one’s thoughts and still them 
in their places so that men need not think. What art 
is that, that man has lost, oh, the mercy of the art. 
Sweet is the lethe of death, a sinking away of the an- 
guished nerves, sweeter still were it, if the anguished 
nerve might sleep and when ’tis wanted, to call it from 
its slumbers, but it is a secret and I fear that I shall 
never know it. When the summer’s light is dim, in 
the skies that fill the west and the sun shines no more 
on the golden fields of Aquitania, I dream of one so 
pure and fair and startle myself from the sweet lethe 
of that dream, a damned dream! Thorn and thistle 
grow upon me and prick me in my dreams and make 
me always half awake. I fancy now that I can hear 
the soft enhancement of her lonely song, such as she 
sang, e’er I had made myself known, as, when the 
gentle evening waned, I would steal upon her as she 
lingered underneath the oaks that stood about her 
father’s house. But she loved me not, nor Sondalere, 


200 


Ondell and Dolee. 


she loved Ondell, oh blissful man, had he but known 
it. What damned treachery fell upon him! I dream 
out my unsatiated life! Must I not be gentle to her, 
and then, perhaps, — who will tell ? Pshaw ! I waste 
my time. I must be desperate with her, I have been 
too gentle. She will not? Then, indeed, she will. If 
there is, my dear Tanton, an anguish of nature, where 
the air is direfully beset with thunderousness and with 
searing flash, there is after that but nature that has 
melted into most benignant sunshine. I must strike 
her with the storm, the smiles of a cleared sky will 
come after that. Tanton, you are young and comely, 
but no one loves you. You have grace of every kind, 
but you are a person, old and gray and in your ancient 

heart the cold and lifeless ghosts of trouble, ” then 

he was suddenly still and Ondell waited impatiently 
for him to go on. He had not learned much, it was 
true, only that Tanton loved Dolee and that did not 
matter much to him, she could never again bear the 
sight of him who had slain her husband, but the im- 
pulse to reveal himself to Tanton died within him, 
insight warned him, he had come to seek this man, 
there was something about him that forbid it now. 
Perhaps he was too wise in the arts of personality to 
disturb an erratic man in his meditations, having gone 
rigorously to school to himself. This was not the 
place to approach Tanton for help. 

Presently the lonely man resumed his meditations 
and Ondell did not relish that so much. He had half 
a mind to frighten him away, he trembled for him, 
lest he should commit his sins to the grave. 


Ondell and Tanton. 


201 


“The moon rises brightly, the cry of the night that 
few may hear, is heard. It is the voice of darkness, 
the voice I know. The hour of witching when the 
pale world rises upon me. A few tears might ease my 
heart, why was not I granted a few tears? The time 
of ghostly dreams is on, the mind sleeps, the temper 
of cold steel has passed, the strong man of the day is 
wearied in the coming of the moon and seeks the balm 
of its healing. A heavy hand was laid upon him,” and 
he laughed so lifelessly that Onidell felt a chill. “On- 
dell ! Ondell ! you served your part and must I reckon 
with you too ? Ah, let them go, one to the judgment of 
eternal dust, yet, I cannot forget them and nowhere on 
earth do they come to me as they do in this place. Til 
be glad when time’s sure erosion has taken them from 
my mind.” 

He walked around then and madly swished his rid- 
ing whip. “This is a strange speech,” commented On- 
dell, “if I remain here, he is liable to walk on me.” 
The moon was now up and Ondell arose quietly and 
sauntered towards the doctor. When he neared him 
he spoke. 

“Hello, Boss!” 

The effect was electrical. Tanton turned quickly 
and with great astonishment. He saw a hideous black 
face before him and he fiercely raised his whip. His 
voice was almost diabolical in its mingled fear and an- 
ger and he frightened Ondell by the suddenness of his 
outburst. 

“You black beast, you devil, you, !” 


202 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Good God! What a gentleman !” Ondell hardly 
expected so violent a greeting. 

“Who are you? ,, Tanton knew then that it was not 
some hideous nightmare that had come upon him. The 
voice assured him that he had only a man to deal with 
and he did not fear a man. 

“Who is I ? Fm de man dey calls Swatchy, but my 
real name is Wilyum Ivory Sunshine an' I’m de only 
nigger in the kentry. What’s I doin’? I’m scarin’ up 
de possum like I does every night.” 

“You have no business in this place!” 

“Whaffor not? Dey aint no church in dis kentery 
whar de bells ring out in de mawnin’, ‘Come coons, 
come coons.’ ” 

“So you do your praying here, eh?” 

“Yas, boss, I been cornin’ here since de devil was 
er boy.” 

“I’m a mind to give you a course of sprouts for 
scaring the life out of me.” 

“You don’t know me very well, does you? I was 
er contraband, long fore de wah an’ I kin pull up a 
loose rock with you, right here to-night, ef you flour- 
ishes dat whup !” 

“You’d run, if you had a cannon, your race is cow- 
ardly, cowardly and mean.” 

“You got that wrong, boss. You lay dat whup on 
me an’ I’m er cornin’ to see you.” 

“You are a saucy beast and you ought to be hung 
out of existence, all of you.” 

‘Boss, does you love your fellerman? Is you a 
Christian?” 


Ondell and Tanton. 


203 


“No, I’m no Christian and you’re none of my family. 
I wouldn’t see one of you emancipated, you ought 
to be my slave and I’m a mind to take you home with 
me.” 

“Well, you can’t do it. 'Couse, I aint carin’ much 
'bout de ’mancipation of my race jist now, de question 
am de ’mancipation of dis ev’nin’s appertite. Dat’s 
what I’m here for. Anyhow, you ought to be chari- 
table to me and quit cussin’ me like dat.” 

“Confound you ! Where did your kind of cattle 
come from anyway?” 

“Das de way. White man smoke de good cigah an’ 
de nigger catch de ashes. But you quit callin’ me a 
cow, I’m as white as any man, I is.” 

“Rot, you black and yellow, mud colored, jackass 
of humanity.” 

“No, I aint, nuther. I’m as white as any man, only 
I has a dark way of shoin’ it. De straight end of my 
hair am growin’ inside, das de difference. An’ rec- 
ommember, white man, dat de mos’ wonderful dis- 
kivery dat de white man ever made was how to git 
de yaller man, — somebody’s my uncle, fo’ shore. Now 
smoke dat!” 

“I’ll swish you one, just for your inpertinence!” 

“Last man dat tried dat was consid’bly worried ’fore 
I got through wif him, he seen de moon er foot off. I 
aint in good sorts nohow, for me, de sun shone all 
night, last night, an’ I’m er spilin’. Say, white man, 
in de lan’ of de free, you aint er showin’ good sperit 
to-night, you mout need me some time. ’Couse, I 
can’t vote, in some of dese blame kenterys you can’t 


204 


Ondell and Dolee. 


do dat when youh face am de color of youh shoes, but 
I can help you bout dat man Undell what you was 
speakin’ bout.” 

“What the deuce are you driving at?” 

“Oh, I aint er drivin’ at nothin’. I want you to let 
me er lone. I aint done you nothin’ an’ recommem- 
ber, white man, dat when de bline man feels his way 
long de side of de houses in de street, he never kin 
know how many fellers, what’s sittin’ nice an’ comf’- 
table, done git up and move dere chairs outen his way, 
wifout sayin’ a word.” 

That amused Tanton and he laughed. 

“Eh, uncle, it’s a hard job to be a monarch in 
Africa?” 

“I dunno bout dat. But when anything happens in 
dis kentery, de nigger done it, when a hoss gets toted 
away in de gloomerin’ de nigger done it. Dey don’t 
spect dat fren of youh’s.” 

“Who is that? Gerand? Why he is an honest 
man.” 

“Well, das all right. Say Doc, I used to think you 
wa9 soft and milky and good natured. Dis evenin’ 
have opened my eyes an’ I can see a whole mile. Does 
you need anybody to help you kill er few of your 
enemies?” Ondell laughed. 

“Yes, when Ondell gets out of jail, I’ll put you on 
to him and you can do him as you please.” 

“Yas? I reckon I’ll do him quicker’n anybody else 
will. But you are a cussed sinner, now fo’ shore, 
Gosh, I kin see through you now !” 

“I can put a curtain over you, you black devil, and 
by the gods, I believe I will.” 


Ondell and Tanton. 


205 


“You won't nuther. I done got my cannon right 
hayr an' ef thar’s any mournin’ to be done, it aint 
gwine to be in my fambly.” 

“You’re a bad nigger Swatchy, I’ve heard of you.” 

“Yes an’ I done hearn about you too. You used to 
worry ’round dat sweet missus Dolee fore she found 
you out.” 

“Say that again and I’ll break your neck.” 

“De monkey, de faster he sleeps, de faster he sticks 
to de limb. I done tol’ you not to try it. I’m an old 
man, lookin’ ebry day a little deeper in my grave, but 
I can’t stand no foolishness. You must let dat widder 
alone and tend to youh business. Ders’s a man a layin’ 
for you ebry night, — ebry night, — so help me grashus, 
an’ he’ll kill you, he’ll do it for shore.” 

“Will he? Who is he?” 

“Oh, dat’s massa Undell.” 

Tanton laughed loud. 

“Uncle, you’re behind the times. Ondell is a con- 
vict. He is in the penitentiary and there is where he 
ought to be.” 

“Go way ! Den it can’t be him, but it’s some feller 
dat I hearn talkin’ ’bout dat an I thought for shore it 
wus Undell. But it was a feller for shore, last time 
I wus down to Panky Holler I done hearn about it.” 

“You did, eh? I’ve killed a better man than the one 
that said it. You can tell him that next time you see 
him.” 

“For shore, you done killed youh man? Me too. 
Tell me ’bout yourn and I’ll tole you ’bout mine.” 

“You are lying.” 


206 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“No, I got de papers for dat. I ses, ses I, you 
might git drunk some day an brag 'bout it, an some 
feller might ’spute dat and den I’d haf to show up or 
fight. Oh, I done got de papers for my killin’. You 
got youhs ?” 

Tanton laughed again and then turned on his heel 
and went to the gate where his horse was hitched. 

“Good night, Swatchy. Eve got enough of you for 
one night.” 

Ondell was glad that he had gone. He waited until 
the horse had passed into the darkness of the valley 
and then he followed. When he came to the creek he 
carefully washed himself and was once more a white 
man. 

“All this is very strange,” he said to himself, “very 
strange. Tanton has a bad disposition. He hates his 
fellow man. I declare he seemed to exult in the fact 
that I was where I belonged. By the eternity! Tan- 
ton referred to me as one that was a good riddance. 
If I did not know the man I’d suspect that he wished 
me out of the country. And maybe he does? By 
George! My removal and that 1 of Sondalere was just 
in his hand. Oh, no, I can surely trust him.” But 
Ondell kept on revolving this in his mind and the 
nearer home he got, the clearer it seemed to him that 
he could not put himself in jeopardy with Tanton. 
The conviction began to grow upon him so strongly 
that he stopped and sat on a log for a while to think 
it all out. 

“By George ! Are all of us cranks ? Every one of us 
has a screw loose. All alike, always have said so, 


Ondell and Tanton. 


20 7 


crooked spines, side tracked noses, ill shapen brain, 
spleenish souls, it’s the way of the world. One thing 
is certain, if there is a blissful abode in Nirvana or 
Paradise, there are none of us hunchbacks there. The 
abnormal men do not excel in the crafts and of course, 
they don’t get to heaven. A lost leg is a clipped 
brain. God writes on a man with a legible hand, is 
an old saying. Never trust a man with a club foot, 
is another. The man who hates his fellow because 
he is black, is a moral hunchback and cannot be trusted. 
Consequently, I dare not trust Tanton. And for be- 
ing so uncharitable as to malign the hunchback and 
the club foot, I too, am a moral degenerate and, con- 
sequently, I’d be a fool to trust myself. I’d best not 
carry the speculation too far. They are all fallacies 
like so many others bandied around in the land of 
brains. Moral deformity ought to be a bar to heights 
of mental excellence. But, by the eternity that waits, 
there you are ! The sublime rogue usually succeeds 
and the monster of vice is the king of his fellows. Oh 
well. A cold rogue, a cool brain. I wonder what de- 
fects have Tanton and I? We are not insane, we are 
somewhat like nine tenths of our fellows, — well it 
don’t matter.” 

Then he got up and walked on. He was now close 
to his home, but no lights shone in the windows. Us- 
ually, at this hour, the servants were up and some ap- 
pearance of life was thrown into the old place but now 
there was none. The beacon still shone and burned 
as from a pipe that had burned steadily for a 
year and a day. He knew in the distance that the 


208 


Ondell and Dolee. 


light had burned every day from the hour of his de- 
parture to that of this lonely and sad homecoming. 

Ondell had made up his mind in reference to Tan- 
ton. He would steal into the house and try to find 
his servant Androche. He could trust Androche, he 
was reasonably sure of that, but his objection to him 
was that he was liable, in his customary absentmind- 
edness, to tell the secret to the first fellow he met. He 
must get Androche by the neck and for once impress 
him that all of his remaining mind must be concen- 
trated on the fact that Ondell was not around. After 
a few days, he would be able to approach Tanton. If 
he could make the cave, Androche would attend to his 
wants and he would be reasonably safo. 

Having determined upon this line of action, he set 
out bravely to go around the hill to the rear entrance 
and while on his way there, he saw another sight that 
revealed to him a still darker side of the character of 
Tanton, — the friend in whose keeping he had given 
his mansion and to a certain extent his life. 

Tanton had ridden away from the graveyard and 
Ondell had walked with weary step. Some time had 
elapsed since he left there, possibly it had taken him 
three hours to make the distance because he had stop- 
ped by the creek and at other places, in a certain hesi- 
tancy as to what to do. 

In the meantime Tanton had one of his usual ex- 
periences and it was his last interview with Eloine 
Terren, — the girl that he had wronged. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


GERAND AND ELOINE RIDE TOGETHER AND MEET TANTON 

WHO IS IN BAD HUMOR AND DEFIES HIS ENEMIES. 

While Onidell toiled up and down, with heavy step, 
Tanton galloped on briskly and when he neared the 
mansion he met Eloine and Gerand. It seemed that 
Gerand, though he had taken the dare of Tanton in 
jest, had really thought better of in and had in some 
manner unbosomed himself to Eloine. That his efforts, 
whether in earnest or in jest, had been fruitless, was 
evident. The character of Gerand was vague and 
hard to understand. One never knew when he jested 
and when he meant what he said. He was not an un- 
handsome fellow, he had a broad frankness and a sar- 
castic smile, which, united with a silent demeanor, 
gave him rather a wise look. 

Eloine Terren was not a beautiful girl. Her eyes 
were blue and her hair was golden. Her features 
were regular and when adorned for inspection, she 
was not bad to the eye. Yet she had no claims to 
beauty and an artist would not be likely to select her 
for a model. However, her face had an intellectual 
cast and she was not without wit or sense. It was in- 
deed surprising, that she had fallen so completely 
under the dominion of Tanton, — but human nature 


210 Ondell and Dolee. 

hath strange likes and follows its gods into unusual 
places. 

Gerand was not beyond Eloine in any points of 
beauty or in that of sense. In reality, they were a 
couple well suited to each other and that is perhaps 
why they could not join together. It was the old story 
of human nature afflicted with rotary and contra- 
dictory tendencies. It would have been well for 
Eloine- to have made a life issue with Gerand and it 
would have been good for him also, since he but 
needed a wiser head than his own, to have made him 
thoroughly respectable. 

Eloine still clung to the ghost of Tanton’s love. She 
felt that he must right her wrongs and that she could 
not and would not enter married life with anyone but 
him. Eloine had sobered down to life in its reality, 
she was not giddy as she was in the callow days when 
she first met Tanton, but her determination not to be 
outdone by him and be left a wreck of morality upon the 
beach, had intensified. She would not listen to Ger- 
and and she even doubted his sincerity. As said, Ger- 
and's sincerity was ever a doubtful proposition. 

In this humor, — though their mutual exploitation of 
like and dislike, had not made them any worse friends, 
— they met Tanton and perhaps both were in condition 
to deal harshly with him. Eloine had been pressed 
to an answer by Gerand, he was curious about reasons, 
he must delve into things, if he was not as good as 
some other man he wished to know the reason. He had 
questioned and questioned provokingly, he would know 
the reason, if any there was, why Tanton found 


Eloine and Gerand. 


21 1 


such unparalleled favor in her eyes, — and Eloine had in 
a moment of forgetfulness or under stress of long and 
continuous disappointment, half revealed to him, why 
it was impossible for her to consider any one but Tan- 
ton. 

Consequently, Gerand was wiser than he was at the 
outset and his opinion of the veracity and other good 
qualities of his friend Tanton had diminished. He 
had an excellent nobility of character in respect to the 
weaker half of the common family and this was food 
for his pet subject. He had been imposed upon by 
Tanton and he did not like such an imposition. Tan- 
ton had recommended her to him as spotless and while 
he had taken his proposal in jest, when he thought 
of it later, it seemed to him that he might do worse and 
at the same time he would do the peerless Tanton a 
great favor. Tanton had now apparently gained the 
way to wealth and he had declared that Gerand came 
after him. But now he had come to believe that he 
would come a long time after and Tanton's peerless- 
ness became encrusted with divers scales and murky 
mud. 

Gerand cared very little which way the wind blew. 
He was not scrupulous in money matters. He felt 
that he could paddle a good sized boat under any cir- 
cumstances and he hoped for great help from Tanton, 
but now he was in a humor not to care whether Tan- 
ton helped him or not. And as he became angry over 
his friend's duplicity, he grew a desire to chide him 
soundly at the first opportunity. 

When, therefore, these met Tanton, there was every 


2 I 2 


Ondell and Dolee. 


evidence of the latter’s troubles having multiplied. He 
reined up as he neared them and the moon shone full 
upon him. His lips parted disclosing a full set of 
white teeth, he smiled because he met them thus to- 
gether, perhaps, after all, he would be rid of his in- 
amorata. 

“I am glad to meet you, my friends, and I hope that 
you have enjoyed a pleasant ride.” 

“I have not,” returned Gerand, sullenly. 

“No? I should think that with so good a lady as 
my constant friend Eloine that one ought to spend a 
pleasant hour under any circumstances.” 

“But for the exception,” said Gerand. 

“The exception? You mystify me.” 

“Well, it need not.” 

“Gerand, my boy, you speak in riddles. When I 
was in the city,” continued the doctor, for he liked to 
talk of his experiences in the city, “when I was in the 
city, where they give plays founded on table sauce and 
what not, I chanced to know of a bit of by-play that 
amused me. A lady, who owned a store had a pet lion 
cub and also a pet clerk. One day the cub tore the 
clerk’s hand and he was so put out about it that he took 
several thousand of her dollars and departed. Before 
he got beyond the confines of Aquitania, he was ar- 
rested. Then he telegraphed to her to leave him alone 
or he would come back and sue her for several thou- 
sand dollars damages in addition to that which he al- 
ready had and besides would tell a tale out of school. 
The lady minded not the threat of damages but the 
tale out of school was another matter and she wired 


Eloine and Gerand. 


213 


the police to let him go, he’s too bad a man to be re- 
turned. Perhaps you can find a parallel in this. From 
your humor, I discern that you have been discussing 
me and that is always a provoking subject.” Tanton 
laughed in his own way and waited for Gerand to say 
on. He had purposely told this incident in order to 
make Gerand tell what had transpired. 

“I do not read your riddle, Tanton, but I have ar- 
rived at the conclusion that it is time for you to stop 
your foolishness and marry. ” 

It was a dangerous subject and Tanton hastened 
to interrupt. 

“No doubt, no doubt, that in the devious ways of 
fate, the girl that I ought to have married, was 
drowned before I met her. No doubt, girls have been 
drowned that I ought to have married, — fate intended 
them for me, but you see they missed me because of 
that. We won’t discuss it. The project to put the 
blind, deaf and consumptive and also the mentally 
lame and halt into a separate institution, beyond mar- 
riage, meets with my approval. Let them have free 
love and I’ll join the institution on the ground of 
mental infirmity.” 

“This is no time for frumpery,” said Eloine, “we are 
not in a mood to be guiled by the gift of anecdotage, 
nor to play with a honey-buzzard. Tanton, this honest 
friend of yours will not have aught of me because of 
you.” 

“You are a fool to talk that way.” 

“Tanton, I know your trail in this matter,” said Ger- 
and, “Miss Eloine has confided to me her secret and as 


214 


Ondell and Dolee. 


a secret I shall respect it. But you ought to be honest 
with her and not leave it to me.” 

“The hell you say, you infernal blabbers. Eloine, 
why will you persist in maligning me?” 

Gerand laughed. “I told her that you said 
that she was a perfect lady and she said to me 
that she hoped that you had not found it imperatively 
necessary to tell me that as a warning. Tanton, you 
are not a fool, but you are not honest. You ought to 
deal justly with this beautiful young lady, she is 
worthy of either of us and however much I am willing 
to share her fortunes and misfortunes, she is right 
when she says that you are the one to share them.” 

“Oh, you fools ! You are but making monkeys of 
idiots. What do you take me for? What right have 
you to give me advice ?” 

Gerand simply rode on and answered not. He had, 
perhaps, said more than he intended. It was not his 
quarrel and he had permitted a generous impulse to 
get the better of him. So he reverted to his habitual 
silence and rode on. He did not care to quarrel with 
Tanton at this stage of the game and he had been in- 
cautious. He had something at stake that he must 
not loose. When to himself, he laughed over the 
comedy and felicitated himself that he would have some 
sport guying Tanton. 

“You are a fool, a fool !” said Tanton to Eloine, 
“that man loves you and you have not sense enough to 
do the best you can. He will marry you, Eloine and 
you ought to jump at the chance.” 


Eloine and Gerand. 


215 

“Tanton you do not really mean that, after all these 
years, do you?” 

“Yes, I meant it.” 

“You do not intend to marry me?” 

“I do not.” 

“Then you have lied.” 

“Yes, then I have lied.” 

“I will tell all that I know of you!” 

“And get in jail for perjury.” 

“No matter.” 

“Yes it does matter. Your son will starve.” 

“And you would see him starve?” 

“I would. Say one* word and both of us will go 
down together.” 

“Tanton you have always promised me, ” 

“Yes, I am always promising.” 

“Tanton, you are not yourself to-night. You don't 
mean this?” 

“Perhaps not. The devil is in me and you might 
as well let me alone to-night. I am sorry that you 
were rude to my friend Gerand.” 

“I was not rude to him and I told him very little. 
He merely guessed the truth and what he told you, 
surprised me. Tanton, I have always been true to 
you and I do not want to have anything to do with 
Gerand. You are jesting with me and it is a sacred 
matter.” 

“You think so? You had better take him, it will be 
one of your last chances. He is a good man, — excel- 
lent fellow, — fine tempered, — fine grained, — noble, see 
how chivalrously he champions your cause, he is nob- 


2l6 


Ondell and Dolee. 


ler than I, he is a better man. I realize my unfitness 
for you and I have interested myself to provide you 
with one better than myself. I am sorry that you 
cannot be rational in this. Gerand will have a fine 
farm if you marry him and you can then realize your 
hope of a home.” 

‘‘It is not home only, it is more than that. I want 
an honest name.” 

“Well, that will be an honest name. Gerand, — why, 
Gerand, is as honest a name as there is in the world. 
You will have your heart’s desire then, honest name, — 
and I will give you the finest farm in Hookeydall for 
a wedding present.” 

“You will? Then you must be prosperous now!” 

“Well, you see, my dear, Ondell has been called up 
from the serried ranks to the plumed front and to a 
sure place. When one of the herd goes up to the 
front he is apt to discard some of his minor treasures. 
Just so, Ondell has provided for me and just as soon 
as you get sense enough to see the admirable qualities 
of our mutual friend, I’ll proceed to make you the big 
lady of the bottom. And it’s a rich bottom, — richest 
in the world. There you will have honor, home and 
those who malign you, may some day have a mortgage 
to pay into your purse and you can deal with them 
accordingly. Ha, my lady, be wise for once.” 

Tanton whipped up his horse unexpectedly and 
dashed by her, without giving her time to answer. He 
knew what her answer would be and he did not want 
to hear it. He did not want her answer to-night, — to- 
morrow after she had slept on it and after she had 


Eloine and Gerand. 


2 1 7 


breakfasted with it and seasoned it with the air of 
morning, she would have a clearer judgment. He 
trusted to vanity, — to all minute circumstances, — he 
believed that he had told her just what he ought to 
have told her and that the conclusion would be as he 
wished it. 

“Dod bummit !” he exclaimed, “it took me a month 
to learn what to tell her, but I knew I’d get it out right 
sometime !” 

Then he rode on and then he stopped and looked at 
the road and noted that he had taken the wrong one. 

“My steps are ever directed towards Dolee. She 
scorns me too. What is it that draws me like a mag- 
net? By God, a magnet? Can I not find a magnet 
wherewith to draw her? Where are the curious arts 
of Sondalere? Alas, they are not all in his grave, but 
I know none of them. R’gosh, there’s where my edu- 
cation has been neglected. 

What did that nigger, What’s-his-name say? Oh, 
yes, some one waited for me with the malicious inten- 
tion of sinking a lead mine into my anatomy. Oh, well, 
let them try it.” 

Still he rode on in the wrong direction. In fact he 
did not care where he went. He was in the midst of 
one of those peculiarly desperate hours, when life and 
death were as nothing. After a long ride, though his 
horse went swiftly along, he turned suddenly and 
found himself at the gate of the home of the widow for 
whom he would, any time, give his life. Would he 
go in? No, she would not see him. An unaccount- 
able dislike had taken her. He had heard it said, that 


2 1 8 


Ondell and Dolee. 


though he was the only doctor in the country, she 
would die before she called him in sickness. 

But a strong impulse was upon him. He would 
force himself into her presence and pour out such a 
tale of love and devotion, that she could not resist him. 
Had he not the words and the power? 

Presently his mind took another direction. A bril- 
liant idea came into his perverted intellect and it was 
in keeping with Tanton. He was true to himself and 
he would play the diplomacy of hades with her. 

With his new possession, whose faint cry he had 
easily stifled, he galloped again down the long road 
by which he had come and he rode wildly as some 
messenger in the heat of battle. The frenzy of exulta- 
tion, — the frenzy of desperate hope filled his mind. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


ELOINE TERREN CONSIDERS THE PROMISES OF TANTON 

AND IS MUCH SURPRISED TO MEET ONDELL URMODEN. 

Eloine was surprised at the words of Tanton and 
more so at his sudden leave-taking. She was alone in 
the world in very truth. Tanton had told her what 
he intended to do. He would present her to Gerand 
with his compliments. She and her ill born might 
go whither, he cared not a whit, she had, once upon a 
time, made an outcast of herself and it seemed that 
nothing could arrest her in the fulfillment of her 
chosen fate. She deserved this, she had merited it, 
because in the erring footsteps of youth, she had trip- 
ped therein. 

Why was it so? Was not this high civilization in 
which she lived and was not forgiveness and sister- 
hood and brotherhood preached on every housetop? 
Why was she an outcast? Better had it been for her, 
had she lived in a more primitive age and in a country 
of less sham morality, the unnatural person of this 
day turned from her with a simulated loathing and 
fastened yet deeper, at every opportunity, the chains 
of slavery upon her. Try as she would, she met men 
who were willing to toy with her with the dark of the 
moon behind them, but everywhere she went, though 
her secret was hers, she felt that the discovery must 


220 


Ondell and Dolee. 


come, and that degradation must follow that discovery 
and she restrained herself in the abjection of the slave, 
because of the shame that would inevitably come upon 
her. 

Not that she believed herself to be worse than in- 
numerable others, on the contrary, her sufferings had 
chastened her soul and worn her of ardent passion 
and like the low woman of the streets, she might be 
nearer to heaven than they who masqueraded in finery 
at the cushioned altars. For an hour, Eloine Terren 
sat there in a dazed frame of mind and tried to think 
out to its legitimate conclusion this thing that had 
come upon her. Life was so brief, so uncertain of 
tenure, so little it held every day, so vacant were the 
hopes of future joy, that she wondered that one would 
patiently toil on to the end of it. To her it had been a 
crown of thorns and though struggling in dim hope 
and under fluent promises all this time, now had come 
the revelation of it all, — she was an outcast, she had, 
once upon a time, gone into voluntary exile, she had, 
cried out in the hours of her loneliness to be taken 
back, she had come to the full realization that they 
who entered there had indeed left hope behind. 

This then, was the fate to which Tanton had finally 
left her. To be cast off and to be traded like a horse, 
to be given away to some handy friend, — some fellow 
conspirator, — the whole of it was worthy of him. She 
might have expected it. She had been duped and 
cajoled until patience had ceased. She had been a fool 
too long, — she had waited and waited, alternately be- 
lieving and doubting, until now it seemed that she had v 


Ondell Meets Eloine. 


221 


come to the wall. No, — -he could not be so cruel as this. 
He was but in a bad temper and to-morrow he would 
not cast her off. Yes? To-morrow would be the same 
as other days, He meant what he said and at last it 
impelled its truth upon her. This time Tanton had 
not lied. She ought to have killed him long since, 
he merited a terrible revenge at her hands, she had 
been his steadfast friend in everything, she had helped 
him with her slender means when he was at school, 
she had perjured herself for him, she had gone down- 
to hades with him. 

Was there then no redress ? Must she leave the coun- 
try and while trying to forget him, struggle in poverty 
to support his child ? Could she do it ? What would it 
avail her to kill him, indeed what availed anything, 
other than to go away and forget him and perhaps, 
sometime, forgive him. 

It was evident that she was superior to Tanton’s 
bargaining, she scorned to be put away into the tender 
arms of the willing Gerand, — she liked Gerand some- 
what and esteemed him. She did not know that he 
was base enough to be the pigeon for Tanton. On 
his own merits and had she been less leprous, she 
might have considered him, but in the place and stead 
of Tanton, he was not other to her, than a contemptible, 
low fellow. She did not know that, in truth, Gerand 
had no idea of being pigeon for Tanton, but that, 
for himself, he loved her some and had more nobility 
of character than Tanton was likely to acquire in sev- 
eral incarnations. Had she been able to penetrate the 
cynical smile of the daredevil Gerand and to read his 


222 


Ondell and Dolee. 


inmost nature, her feelings might have been different. 
Gerand, to his credit, be it recorded, adhered rigidly 
to his beliefs respecting women and would have been 
willing to have taken her and thrown around her the 
pale of decency and the safeguards that he esteemed 
so essential to woman’s welfare and woe betide Tan- 
ton, or any other man who might try conclusions with 
him on that score. Gerand would not have hesitated 
a second to have aerated their brains through buckshot 
punctures. But she did not know this and so it is ever 
that men and women carry their secrets about and 
two may live beside each other many years and fail of 
knowing the good of their companion soul. 

So Eloine Terren rode on dejectedly, not daring to 
kill herself, because one of tender years looked solely 
to her for sustenance, not daring to kill her seducer, 
because that would mean punishment, — and for the 
young might be the same as death, she had no recourse 
other than to go away and somewhere under the sun, 
begin again. 

As she neared the Mansion, she looked upon it and 
sighed that one so base and so untrue, dwelt therein. 
She would go to him and kneel and beg once more? 
No. Must she yet humble herself? No. The time 
had come for retribution, but how it was to come she 
did not know. She felt that justice must come sooner 
or later to us all and it impressed her plainly that Tan- 
ton had not far to go, — somehow, she knew that some 
power walked behind him and waited for the moment 
to give him his deserts. 

“The time has come ! The hour of retribution ! The 


Ondell Meets Eloine. 


223 


guilty have been searched out !” Eloine almost 
shrieked out these words, hardly knowing what she 
said. A't that moment, one stepped into the road 
boldly, — a heavy man, — a commanding man, — not for 
his height or for his strength of great limb, — the moon 
shone upon him with full force, and he looked the 
fair picture of a king. He raised his hand and she 
stopped, not in fear, for utter abandon filled her, what 
he might do to her, little disturbed her. 

‘‘Has the hour come?” he asked in a resonant voice, 
“Eloine Terren, my witness and my accuser, has it 
come ?” 

And yet, in that moment Eloine Terren felt a great 
terror. It was Ondell Urmoden and well she knew 
the voice and the man behind it. No man ever held 
his own before him. A gentleman who might kill, a 
man quick to revenge, had he discovered it all and 
come to demand the martyr’s ciown? She was too 
terrified to answer him. 

Ondell had been following the lady and he was sat- 
isfied as to her identity. A thought struck him that 
women had always been his truest friends, barring a 
single exception, that in despite his gloominess and 
haughtiness, he had always a peculiar fascination for 
them and that Eloine Terren might be glad to favor 
him. But how to approach her was another matter, 
until her exclamation had prompted him to stand be- 
fore her in his dramatic gesture and fairly freeze the 
marrow in her bones. 

The effect had been well divined, it was overpower- 
ing. 


224 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“You need not be alarmed at me, my dear friend, 
I hold nothing against you, you are a friend of Tan- 
ton and he is my friend. I would talk with you and 
have you enlisted in my cause." 

“Where do you come from?" she asked. 

“From the penitentiary, as you know. I have es- 
caped and I wish concealment in my house. I wish to 
arouse my servants, I do not wish to apprise Tanton 
of it, until some days are passed, Miss Eloine, you will 
not betray me? Will you not befriend me? You may 
some day need a friend, Eloine, you have a woman's 
heart, can you sympathize with me?" The voice was 
irresistibly eloquent and tender. 

“Ondell Urmoden, you can trust me. Come 
aside, — we must go to the arborium, or some place 
other than here, Tanton might pass back or some one 
might come. We will talk it over and of me, you 
may be assured. I have kept my secrets well and I 
can keep yours." 

When they had come to the arborium and seated 
themselves in almost the identical place, where some 
time before, the crime had been committed, the two 
talked in a low earnest voice for a long time. The 
hour was about eleven, but they minded it not 

“Tanton has discharged Androche?" queried Ondell 
in surprise. 

“And all the others. There is no one with him but 
Gerand." 

“Why all this?" 

“Tanton wants your property. He is not your 
friend. He is an enemy." 


Ondell Meets Eloine. 


225 


“My God, what am I to do?” 

“ Watch your opportunity and get into the cave you 
have spoken of and I will provide you with food and 
information. I am there every day. He, — the base 
Tanton, has use for me, you see what I am, — low, — too 
low to be a friend to a gentleman like you, ” 

“No, indeed, you are the best of friends and through 
me, God willing, you shall come to better things. Tan- 
ton has wronged you, has he? He is that kind of a 
man is he? Miss Terren, I have heard in the last half 
hour more of my fellow men than I ever heard before. 
I am untutored in their ways and they have deceived 
me. I am wiser than I was some hours ago.” 

Elione was on the point of telling him of his in- 
nocence of the murder of Sondalere, — no, — she must 
not, — that would involve Tanton and of Tanton, there 
lingered yet a faint hope. 

“Tanton has wronged you, has he? He shall right 
that wrong. By God, he will marry you.” 

“He will not, friend Ondell, he will put it off and 
if you insist he will betray you or he will kill you. You 
must not trust him, I am compelled to trust him some- 
what for the sake of my child. I must pander to him 
while he wishes me to give myself in double perfidy 
to Gerand. Not satisfied with my ruin, he would have 
another share it with him.” 

“Why, he is very generous, the cur and hound. 
Miss Terren, I am so bewildered with all this, — and in 
my present situation I hardly know what to do.” 

. “Let us be going, that is the thing to do. You must 
be safe first and the wrongs of weak women can be 


226 


Ondell and Dolee. 


attended to to-morrow. Perhaps you may be able to 
persaude Tanton, perhaps you may find some other 
way, but I pray you be not hasty, the situation is 
critical. I have my school and can, out of my means, 
assist you and you must learn from me a little of that 
great patience that has come upon me with much suf- 
fering.” 

“Why, my dear girl, — God bless you, — but, indeed, 
I need not your slender means. I will prepare you a 
check as soon as I can, whatever you wish, — thous- 
ands if necessary and we shall not want. It is not 
money, — money I have more than I can spend, my 
good father had it from his father, we have money, 
never fear, I need now only that friendship and loyalty 
that all the money of the world cannot purchase.” 

“That you have for the asking.” 

Eloine left her horse at the arborium and followed 
Ondell around the hill. She knew the secret entrance 
as well as he did, but she thought it best to be there 
so that in case Gerand was around she might attract 
his attention to another part of the house. 

“Listen !” 

“Get aside,” whispered Eloine, “it is Tanton, he 
comes this way” and the two stepped into the dense 
shadow under the cliff. Tanton rode up as close as he 
could and dismounted. Then he toiled up the hill, 
carrying something. The moon was in resplendent orb 
and what he did could be seen plainly. He was now 
opposite to them and but a few paces away. 

There came a small, stifled cry from the bundle that 
he carried in his arm and Ondell bent forward, while 


Ondell Meets Eloine. 


227 


Eloine grasped his arm. He heard no more, but that 
one faint cry was that of a voice that Eloine knew. Tan- 
ton went on up the steep trail and entered the stone 
walled courtyard of the Mansion. Until he did so, 
it was not safe to speak. Then it was Eloine who 
broke the stillness. 

“It was the voice of little Ondellette! ,, 

/‘Who?” 

“The child of Dolee.” 

“The child of Dolee?” 

“Yes, she has a young child.” 

“And named it so?” 

“Yes, she remembered you.” 

A great light had burst upon Ondell. She remem- 
bered him, she loved him after all, she named her only- 
born for him, and yet another truth came to him. 

“Do you know why he kidnaps the child?” 

“No, I know only that he is up to some more of his 
deviltry.” 

“He has a magnet wherewith to draw the mother. 
She would give the ransom of a king for any child of 
hers, that he knows. He wants not money, neither 
does he want its feeble life, he wants an unwilling 
mother.” 

“That is why he wants me to go to Gerand. He is 
a serpent and the deepest curse of woman be upon 
him !” 

“Yes, some men are criminals and thieves, others 
are bankers and landlords. One gets gain by force 
and stealth, the other by force and wealth. They do 
say that the tradesman has virtue and the other has 


228 


Ondell and Dolee. 


vice, that the virtuous shall endure and the vicious 
perish. Men who read character, say that the crim- 
inal has a kink that stamps him not only with clever- 
ness and a sort of ferocious cautel, but also a reckless- 
ness that entraps him after th6 act. Our friend is 
perhaps drunk with violence.” 

“Is this really a time for preaching?” asked Eloine.” 

“I beg your pardon, Miss. Now what’s to be 
done ?” 

“We will return to the arborium and I will wait 
there while you ride to the home of Dolee and inform 
her of what has happened, — no, — that will not do, — 
you might be discovered. You will wait here and I 
will go to her. We will confront this villain and you 
will not be with us, for in that moment the desperation 
of Tanton will find vent somewhere.” 

“No, — I will go. Capture or not, the hour has come 
for me to buckle on the armor of manhood and stand 
forth a champion. This man must be put down. I 
will bring her here and she will put upon him the in- 
effaceable curse of a mother, — and then, — I will 
kill him like a dog. You have promised to keep my 
secret, — keep two of them for me. If I am redhanded 
in one, I may as well answer for two, what’s done is 
done and by God, at one stroke I wipe off the slate !” 

“Ondell !” 

“No, you shall not prevent me! I will go!” 

“Ondell !” 

But Ondell had leaped into the sidesaddle and he 
heard not her cry after him. She wanted to lighten 


Ondell Meets Eloine. 


229 


his heart for the journey and soothe his anger, so that 
Tanton might not come to harm, — she could not bring 
herself to that. She believed that when he was con- 
fronted by his evil deeds that he would be contrite and 
that for his own sake he would not betray Ondell. If 
he dared to do so, she would betray him, come what 
might. 


CHAPTER XX. 


ONDELL RIDES AT MIDNIGHT TO THE HOME OF DOLEE 

AND QUARRELS WITH HIMSELF ABOUT THE ILLU- 
SIONS OF UNCONSCIOUS CEREBRATION. 

Ondell rode swiftly and the scene around him, in 
the brilliant moonlight, was that of tall trees with bare 
branches, sycamores, oaks, hickories and all the trees 
of a mid-temperate clime. Leaf by leaf had fallen, 
until each seemed to stand alone and ghostly. The 
country around hung on the brow of numb and dying 
autumn and a spell of dreamy contemplation came up- 
on him. He seemed to be within the welcome shades 
of paradise, after a journey through hades. So he 
rode through the wildern woods, by the old water mill, 
by the brook that flowed evermore down hill and dale. 
Here the white hued sycamores stood in their cold, 
saintly majesty in the low valleys between the hills, 
here the willow hung far out over the spring-dropt 
waters of the little river and anon the limestone cliffs, 
where the stream had eroded for itself a pathway 
through the hills, gave variety to the reposeful scene. 
So he fell to dreaming of a paradise, though he had, 
ever present, the thought that he was a fugitive and 
that his dream must soon end. So he rode easily and 
swiftly on through this garden almost wholly sacred 


A Midnight Ride. 


231 


to the riot of nature, a place- untouched by civilization, 
a spot in the Amerindian wilds, where for the present, 
he was safe from pursuit, and the balm of gentle au- 
tumn rested upon him like a benediction. 

He breathed the infinite beauty of the hills and the 
wonderful peace of the valleys and the silence of the 
place gave him a moment where he could pause and 
introspect and commune with himself. While in this 
reverie he heard a faint ticking noise, such as once be- 
fore, in the silence of his chamber and in an hour of 
great anguish he had heard. It was as if something 
made a tic-au-tac against the hog hide covered saddle 
horn. He took out his knife, rather, it was the handy 
knife of Philleo that he had found in the trousers 
pocket, and replied. The sound was answered, but 
the sense of it was not intelligible to him. He slowed 
his pace and tried again, but did not succeed any bet- 
ter. Then it ceased entirely. “No use to try to nail 
down a ghost,” he said, half aloud, “I have always 
hoped to be classed as a man of large comprehension, 
if I believe this curious thing, I shall never be other 
than a fool. Oh, well, I have often made a fool of my- 
self and this would not be a fugitive effort. If there 
is anything beyond the earthly pralaya, I would like to 
know it. Possibly, I am like the rest of the world, 
that, in the face of stacks of proof, will not believe 
this thing.” 


Note. — Amerindian. A denotive term for American-In- 
dian countries. 

Note.— Pralaya. Soul slumber. 


232 


Ondell and Dolee. 


As he rode on, subject to weariness, conflict of emo- 
tion and fear as to the possible outcome of it all, it 
seemed to him that it was a dangerous hour, one 
wherein irritation might become rage, fear become ter- 
ror, or calm affection a transporting passion. The 
hour seemed pregnant with some dense power, some- 
thing that might lead his mind into a strange retreat, 
wherein a little thing might become the foundation of 
a fixed illusion. What form of brain lesion might be 
involved in this he did not know, that would be a nut 
to crack at leisure. But he was happy in his reverie. 
The hachisch might be a delusion, it served him well, 
nerved him to be cold in the excitement of the hour, 
the landscape served to attract his thoughts from the 
monotony of impression and from a fixation of atten- 
tion, which, at that time, was a danger to him, because 
he wandered near the shores of human mental wreck. 

His thoughts then reverted to the subject that had 
so often intruded itself upon him, the possibility of 
spiritism, the step beyond hypnosis, the steps from ex- 
pectant attention to profound coma, the riddle of it 
all, — and then again a gleam of sense would dispel 
the mists of imagination, only to come again and 
again, as one that had grown up in the midst of mag- 
netic mysteries, had inherited a bent for metaphysical 
studies, had a neurasthenic disease towards them and 
yet without being in the least diseased or abnormal 
Ondell Urmoden was a pattern of many brains who 
yearn after the unknowable and seek to delve into its 
mysteries, but without being offensive as he did so. It 
was the greatest, the profoundest and the most scien- 


A Midnight Ride. 


233 


tific thing in the world and as such it was for one of 
his order of intellect to peer into and to cast a dim light 
therein and then to shake his head and declare that it 
was unfathomable. 

Possibly, thought he, intermittent life is not an in- 
consistent theory. It seemed that there might be 
periods of returning strength, that of gestation to pu- 
berty or formative period of body, from that to the 
period of development of reason and emotion, or form- 
ative period of the mind, from that to imagination 
and creativeness or of the psychic mind, from that to 
spirituality and exact science or period of practicality, 
from that to period of will power and conservation of 
energies and powers, and then to a sixth period of 
mental and physical slumber. 

He had thus divided his life into six fifteen-year 
periods, but he had not wholly satisfied himself that 
the last period meant wholly breaking away from 
life, — science or no science, it did not seem to be a 
rational conclusion. 

He was half inclined to laugh at himself for getting 
so far into deep water but he could not find it in his 
heart to do so. His poor self was arguing the great- 
est question that man has to solve and it was no time 
for irreverance. After all, he concluded, it may be but 
a picture, an astral semblance and some claim to rec- 
ognize it, I do not, therein, I may be like the world, 
stacks of proof and yet no proof. 

“Ah, earthly ties are most binding,” said the philos- 
opher, “for their country, men forsake their families 
and seek death, but for patriotism towards. God, to 


234 


Ondell and Dolee. 


whom all countries are dearer possessions, they forsake 
nothing. That is where religion fails to impress me. 
No man suicides for the love of good or even gives a 
dollar, except the entirely superfluous one. The love 
of God ought to be greater than that of country, but 
there is where religion fixes nothing upon me. The 
spiritual kingdom is not of sensual affiliations, says 
one, — earth life is a thing of hell, says another, the 
greatest spirit that ever visited the earth was cruci- 
fied because he taught the people to forsake their earth 
ties for him, — I cannot follow that. Religion is to me, 
as of old, a cause for the wrath of the people. My 
earthly brother and sister I will not forsake, though 
our mutual ties have been generated by the processes 
of sin and though we all go to perdition together. 

Here I am, plowing around in a mass of imaginary 
science, I think of a unity between God and Nature, 
I think that my soul is a collective thing of the sum of 
my brain forces, that life is wholly in the cell, that my 
immortal self is bound up in special brain areas, that 
the destruction of the areas means destruction of that 
much soul, that my ego grows in childhood and youth 
and decays with senile degeneration and I find myself 
in a mass of contradiction that^I know not how to get 
out of. 

Having come to the belief that there is no after life, 
I try to strengthen the awful possibility that there is 
not, and that if there is not, there is no use in my being 
in the least a decent man, with the belief, that the ad- 
vantage of society, that is, of associated individuals, — 
is to have right living and right thinking and 


A Midnight Ride. 


235 


needs not any anchor of faith, pshaw, it is impossible. 
The duty of each individual to the body of associated 
individuals need not trouble me and it will not se? 
riously trouble me either. 

Then, I am confronted with the phenomena of the 
supernatural and am so impressed with an intuition 
that a spirit am I, whose body is a garment merely and 
that the wrecking of any part of it is not a loss of soul 
function, that I begin to pity the man that does not 
believe it. I rejoice then that I am an atom of an 
immortal existence and a part of an infinite plan. The 
next moment I change my mind again, because that 
noble moment of exaltation does not agree with the 
demonstrations of evolution. My thoughts have been 
come to that phase from which I would, if I could, 
turn back and with sadness and fear hold to it that I 
am a digit of humanity, moving on without guide 
or place of final ending, without hope and with dark- 
ness around me, incarnation, re-incarnation, God 
knows, I do not, but if it ever comes to me, that year 
will I keep as my anno santo.” 

He neared the home of Dolee now and it was time 
to check his keen, turbulent thoughts, that after all, 
profited him nothing. He had studied all these things 
thoroughly with the lights of science and not with the 
lights of grace and there was no end to it all. He was 
a great thinker and consequently, it appeared that he 
was a great fool. He brought himself misery and un- 
rest. Life was not practical, it was gloomy, irrelev- 
ant, it lacked humor and lightheartedness, it lacked 
the balm of sweet forgetfulness, it lacked the happiness 


236 


Ondell and Dolee. 


of the dog, because it held the intellect of the devil. 
Then, forsooth, he had done with it and he would 
plow the furrow and gather in the walnuts and pick 
the bountiful hazel brush and in the spring go out for 
the purple huckleberry and let the problems go to 
sheol. 

Ondell now stopped and tied his horse. He was 
within a hundred yards of her house and he knew that 
if he rode up to the gate he would attract atention and 
that he did not wish to do. 

Even while he jerked at the stubborn halter that 
would not give itself into a satisfactory knot, one had 
walked upon him on rubbers, so to speak, for he heard 
her not. 

When he turned, after a moment and looked into the 
white, delicate face of Dolee, his heart fairly leaped 
in his throat and she was so surprised that she barely 
restrained a cry. 

“Ondell?” she asked, as if in doubt whether it was 
he or his alter ego. 

“Yes, hush ! I come for you. Have you missed 
your, ” 

“Yes, yes, all the men on the place are scouring the 
woods for her. Is she safe? Can you tell me any- 
thing? For God’s sake, Ondell, tell me!” 

“Have patience. The child is well and not likely 
to come to harm.” 

“For God’s sake, Ondell, take me to her at once.” 

“Would you trust me, Dolee?” 

“Trust you? To the end of the earth.” 


A Midnight Ride. 237 

“But I am said to have killed your husband, might 
I not kill you ?" 

“Ondell, ! Not you. You are too noble, you never 
killed anyone/' 

“But I stand convicted. I am a fugitive from the 
penitentiary now. I did not intend to come to you. 
But I saw a dastardly deed and I risked a chance of 
capture to come to you." 

“How noble you are!" 

“Not at all. If I deprived you of your liege lord, 
it is my duty to do you any favor that I can in atone- 
ment. You will take it as such, will you not?" 

“Ondell, I don't believe it! You have not done 
this thing!" 

“Oh, I suppose I have. I don't see how else it could 
have happened. Of course it was an accident, I cer- 
tainly did not mean to deprive you of your husband, 
Dolee, I could not be so base as that, mean revenge 
has no part in me, we had some words and all that fol- 
lowed is not precisely clear. They say that I have 
the muscle of the ox and that I broke a blood vessel 
in his brain. It has happened before, it might have 
happened. I trust, however, that you will not 
harbor ill against me. Once you believed in me." 

“Yes, and I believe in you now." 

“And you made me happy for a brief time, because 
I loved, — oh, how I loved you and worshiped you, 
though silently and even moodily, Dolee, my heart was 
pure gold." 

“Yes, but my dear Ondell," and there was a sweet 
tenderness in the caressing words, “we will go over 


238 


Ondell and Dolee. 


that again to-morrow. Take me to my child to-night. 
Listen, the bell of midnight rings and the searchers 
are to return here for news. It is the signal, you will 
tell them, tell the first one that comes and we will ride 
together, Ondell, and loose no time.” 

“Oh, have patience. I’ve had to have lots of it. 
You will await the men and see them alone. You for- 
get. I am wanted. I cannot trust $ny one. I took 
great chances, like the fool that I am, to trust myself 
to you.” 

“Ondell !” 

“You may tell them that you have received warn- 
ing that your Ondellette ” 

“Ondell ! How came you to know her name?” 

“No matter. I thank you for the gift of a God- 
fathership, we’ll discuss that later, as you said. Tell 
them that she has been kidnapped and that there is no 
danger to her and that they must be satisfied until your 
return.” 

“Yes, my friend.” 

“And, Dolee.” 

“Yes, Ondell.” 

“Have them to saddle a good horse for you, it is 
rough walking over the rutty road.” 

“Yes, my friend, I will go now and attend to it.” 

“And, Dolee.” 

“Yes, my good friend.” 

“Don’t tell them I’m here, or my name will be mud.” 

“Ondell, you must not give yourself such names as 
that.” 

“Oh,, well, I’m a believer in the expressive new- 


A Midnight Ride. 


23 9 


comers of language. By the way, another favor. 
Bring me a decent saddle. I’ve struggled along on 
this side-saddle and it has given me a nightmare of the 
spirit. I have been to Hindoostan with this thing to- 
night.” 

‘‘How come you by a side-saddle?” 

“We’ll discuss that to-morrow, as you said. I will 
go with you and get the saddle, you can get ready in 
the meantime. Will you permit me to walk with 
you ?” 

“How provoking you are !” she said, “we must 
hurry, I am ever so impatient.” 

“Have patience, Dolee,” Ondell walked close to her 
and presently slipped his arm in hers. It reminded 
him of old times and he might have one pleasure more 
before he went into exile. He felt that he could not 
remain in this country, that the cavern would not be 
large enough to hold him. 

Tanton had come before him twice this night and 
under such bad aspects that he could no longer trust 
him in anything. The man was steeped in crime, he 
had an ungenerous, a selfish disposition; he hated all 
his fellow men, yet there was a soothing beauty in his 
manner and there were traits in his character that 
made him lovable in many respects. He could not 
hate Tanton, he rather pitied him. He pitied the pros- 
titution of his gifts, of his personal beauty and of the 
exquisite power of his tongue. He pitied him be- 
cause he had the dense shadow that goes with the light, 
[ie lacked moral perceptiveness and he could not alto- 


240 Ondell and Dolee. 

gether help it. That was the philosopher's opinion 
and it came from the heart of one who, despite his 
cynicism, believed in the brotherhood of man, — even 
if the fatherhood of God seemed to be a chimera of 
faith. 



CHAPTER XXI. 


a mother's premonition causes a desperate ride 

TO THE MANSION OF A THOUSAND STAIRS TO WIT- 
NESS A CATASTROPHE. 

“God sent you to me,” said Dolee as they rode along 
the rutty road, where the moon shone brightly and the 
trees were ghostly and bare. 

“Woman's weakness is religion,” he answered care- 
lessly, for he had other thoughts now. What to do 
with himself after this was over, was a perplexing 
question. Tanton would surely reveal him for his part 
in this and how could he dispossess him ? 

“You are yet a scoffer, Ondell,” she replied. Her 
companion was a man of manner somewhat winning, 
a clear cut face, a restless, brilliant hazel eye, a grace- 
ful, though heavy figure, a calm, cold demeanor, a 
hand small and shapely, a foot like an Apollo and a 
mind in a whirl of skepticism, such was Ondell. Dark 
curly hair clustered around his temples and in the 
moonlight she seemed again pierced by the lovelight of 
his eyes. A fierce feeling then came into her soul, al- 
ternately it seemed like a burning and a throbbing of 
love and of hatred, she felt allured by a wild sense of 
amusement. An unreasonable, a contradictory human 
heart was hers, yet from the warm throbbing within 
her, came an inexpressible sweetness and the delight- 


242 


Ondell and Dolee. 


ful sensation made her silent and pensive. Then anon 
a longing, restless expectancy grew within her and 
Ondell said something, — so it seemed to her, — a voice 
more plaintive and tender than before, but she did not 
catch it. 

“What did you say, my friend ?” 

“Nothing, I did not speak.’' 

“How strange ! Why, I hear music !” 

“Aha, that is more of it. A celestial cavatine comes 
to your sympanthum. Nature sings her own sweet 
music, an autumn breeze upon an autumn’s forest, 
often I hear it, the humming of the bee, the chirping 
of the katydid and the falcon voice of the nightingale.” 

“No, it was not like that, it was ethereal, dreamlike.” 

“Ah, yes, a variety. It seems to tell of a life of 
roses, riches, love and wine, the moon’s pale lurid light, 
the silken zephyr that bestirs the brown-hued leaves, 
something ethereal that had come when the low winds 
softly sigh, oh, it is a dream music, there’s nothing in 
it, I’ve thought it all out.” 

“No, it was more than that, it was so strange and so 
weird, so deathlike and it fills me with fear.” 

“Pshaw, it is hysteria, nothing more, I’ve thought 
it all out. It charms you and you listen to the entranc- 
ing voices and you shall be cast out upon the bleak 
rocks, you make men’s hearts cry out in loneliness. 
Could one give you, my dear friend, so precious a thing 
as a human heart, then indeed, would a strange, warm 


Note. — S ympanthum. The ear of the soul. 


A Mother’s Premonition. 


243 

feeling sweep into your breast, but you have not that 
and none can give it to you.” 

“Ondell, you wrong me. I have a human heart, 
infinitely tender.” 

“Pshaw! You have now, under the peculiar sur- 
roundings a prayerful song for the safety of your 
child, — when the danger is passed, — to-morrow, — you 
will coquette again.” 

“Ondell, I am different now. Life has brought its 
unfoldment and its wisdom, I know you better now 
than I ever could have known you had not all this 
come to pass.” 

“Yes, my friend, you have drifted somewhat towards 
the shores unknown, — drifted amid strange wrecks 
and reefs, desolation is there, my dear, and it is all a 
wonderful mystery. To-morrow, you will forget 
again.” 

“No, I shall never again forget. I erred, I did 
wrong, forgive me!” 

“Undoubtedly. It has been a passing hour of wait- 
ing, and oh, so deucedly pleasant. Meanwhile our 
friend Tanton has captured the booby prize.” 

“Tanton? My God, has Tanton done this thing?” 

“Aye, so he has. I looked at him to-night and I 
saw lines deep and eloquent on his face, his hair whit- 
ens even in his youth, his step is less manly and yet 
Dolee he loves you and he would have you. He has 
the babe already, why not you ? Go to him and make 
him happy, that is nearer to your nature than anything 
that I know of,” Ondell, strange to say, was bitterly 
sarcastic and it ill befit the surroundings. 


244 


Ondell and Dolee. 


Dolee covered her face and sobbed. 

“My dear, I did not mean to offend you. Gracious, 
one would suppose that you loved only me.” 

“Ondell, I love only you. I have never loved any one 
but you.” 

“Then indeed, am I in sorrow, for after the hour is 
past, I must go hence and seek a land where the laws 
of the Amerindian commonwealth cannot poach upon 
me. I must go to-night, — as far as I can. Tanton 
will not thank me for this.” 

“Ondell ! Ondell !” she exclaimed suddenly, “did 
you see that? My God, the house is falling! We must 
ride for life, Ondell, we must go as swiftly as we can, 
something awful is going to happen !” 

“Why, what’s the matter?” 

“I had a vision!” 

“What! You getting them too? Don’t jest so, I’m 
ticklish on that subject.” 

“Ondell, we must go faster. My eyes travel over 
the hills. Earth is disturbed, a calamity awaits us, — 
for God’s sake, — Ondell !” 

Then came to Ondell a consciousness of wildered 
haste, the veins swelled out on his body and a sensation 
altogether new and strange seized him. He caught 
that feeling of terrible urgency. 

“You are right, Dolee, something is wrong some- 
where.” He whipped up each horse and then began 
the most exciting and desperate ride of his life. Nor 
was his extreme nervous tension in the least relieved 
as he came upon a small prominence overlooking the 


A Mother’s Premonition. 245 

valley, from which he could see in the distance the 
Mansion of a Thousand Stairs. 

“There is gushing of the light, something is wrong 
there, there is an over supply of gases, you are right, 
something is wrong.” 

His companion answered not, but peered ahead and 
bent low and galloped wildly, — intensely concentrated 
on the making of headway. Ondell looked at her for 
a moment, — her white face had an unnatural whiteness, 
the eyes fairly shone, he knew not what new obsession 
this was, but it was more force of an intangible kind 
than had ever been able to fasten itself upon him be- 
fore. 

He even fancied that the air around him was per- 
vaded with some dim aura, even the horses seemed 
to catch the unnatural inspiration and they skimmed 
along easily and without labored breath. Ondell had 
time to think that these were better horses than he 
ever owned, though he lived in the land where the 
swift horse thrived. 

It seemed to him that this was one of those hours 
that are lived but once in a lifetime and whereon 
hung the destinies of many days. 

And it was such an intense hour as he might never 
forget, — in other years when happier moments had 
come to him, when the storms of youth had ceased to 
disturb, — he might remember this desperate ride be- 
yond the hour of midnight in the land of Gascony. 

Now they rode even harder and the horses began to 
show signs of being winded, they prespired profusely, 
the white foam gathered on their flanks and necks. 


246 


Ondell and Dolee. 


“Ride slower, our horses will drop,” said Ondell, 
but the woman heard him not for she bent still lower 
and rode on for a moment ahead of him in that awful 
desperation that had come upon her. The next mo- 
ment he had caught up with her and again they rode 
neck and neck and little he cared now whether or not 
they dropped in their tracks. Now they rounded out 
the valleys like birds that skimmed the low heavens, — 
they passed beyond the mill stream, — up into the little 
forest, — up the steep rock-path that lead to the gloomy 
mansion. 

The light continued to send forth strange spouts of 
flame and through the trees occasionally, Ondell fan- 
cied that he saw the outlines of a man walking on the 
flat roof and using an axe or some heavy instrument. 

“It is Tanton, he seeks to burst the gaspipe. The 
house is filled, the place is smothering him, he seeks 
to open the greater pipe, he cannot do it!” Ondell 
spoke aloud but his companion heeded him not. The 
horses now went slower perforce, they reared with 
wild pesade at times, picking their rocky way and then 
at last they stood upon the little plateau and in the 
near distance rose majestically the mansion. But they 
stopped here. The ground beneath them heaved and 
rocked as if in earthquake. 

They were unable to proceed. Dolee turned and her 
ghastly, beseeching face was as the face of the dead. 
She looked pleadingly at her companion, — the hour 
had come when the impassiveness of that companion 
would be in excellent stead. 


A Mother’s Premonition. 


247 


“Get down !” he said, suiting the action to the word. 
“Take my arm and pnder no circumstances let go.” 

Tanton could now be seen plainly, the light of moon 
and waning morn, though dim, reached him and it 
could be discerned that lie struck desperately at the 
pipe that would not yield. 

Ondell and Dolee toiled on up the broken rocks, 
hand over hand, as swiftly as they could. The great- 
est of excitement filled them. The rocks were sore 
disturbed, the earth seemed verily to ferment. They 
could not go further then and the great drops of sweat 
stood out upon Ondell as he realized that he was too 
late. The convulsion that had come upon the place 
had already so disturbed the ways and uprooted the 
trees and made such a scene of desolation that it was 
useless to attempt to pass it. 

Dolee had realized this now and as Ondell turned 
to her she was prepared for the worst. 

“Dolee, I’m afraid we cannot make it. The house 
is ruined, it will be worth our lives to venture farther. 
We might go around the hill and try the other passage- 
way, though it is rougher and steeper than this. No, 
it is useless. He is hemmed in and cannot get out. 
He has the child with him !” 

Dolee sank into a deadly swoon and Ondell picked 
up the burden and weakly found his way down the 
rocking hill until he came to the little plateau or flat 
edge of the hill. There he felt safe enough to pause 
and turn back to view the scene of destruction before 
him. 

Nothing that he had ever seen equaled the appalling 


248 


Ondell and Dolee. 


grandeur of this night’s calamity. He felt that' the 
usefulness of his home was gone. It would be a wreck 
«md a ruin about which, still more strange legends 
might cluster, he would see the end of it and altogether 
he was not sorry, only that it deprived him of a refuge 
from the minions of the law. 

Then Dolee seemed to revive and presently she was 
able to stand again and look with tearless, straining 
eyes upon the scene before her. 

Now Tanton seemed to leave the roof as if in frenzy 
of fear and go down to the house. Presently he ap- 
peared again and once more began his desperate fight 
for life. He believed that if he could break the greater 
pipe that the escape of the natural gas would be so 
great that it would relieve the pressure below and give 
him a chance to escape. He was correct in his sur- 
mise and if ever man labored with desperateness in 
every blow, it was Tanton in the morning hour of this 
strange day. 

Suddenly then, the lamp went out and darkness 
filled the place. Ondell did not believe that it was 
so dark, everything had been so light around him, he 
attributed it to the moonlight, he had in his excitement 
forgotten all about the great beacon. 

Then Tanton struck a match and in the explosion 
that followed, he was hurled off his feet but the beacon 
burned again with great spouting gusts of flame and 
Tanton arose and hurriedly threw off his burning coat. 
Ondell admired his great bravery in that act, — under 
awful circumstances, his presence of mind had not 
forsaken him. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


THE CATASTROPHE ENDS IN THE WRECK OF THE MAN- 
SION, THE DEATH OF TANTON AND A THRILLING 

RESCUE BY ELOINE. 

Ondell turned for a moment to look at his compan- 
ion. She stood by his side, white and immovable as 
marble. She looked as one who could not weep or 
moan or think in the agony that was rending her heart, 
as she stood there, trying to understand what death 
meant. 

The invisible spirit, of things from the deep fountains 
of the soul seemed to be around them then, and they 
could not read the mysteries. On her face was an ex- 
pression so lifeless, so calni and numb, that it im- 
pressed him with a yet intenser terror. If she were 
dead, she would be like this and if she were dead, then 
life would be naught to him. But she was not dead, 
the resemblance merely, yet startled him and he re- 
alized the depth of yearning and the mastery of his 
love, as under no other circumstances he could have 
awakened to it. 

Then his staring eyes wandered again to the tragedy 
that was enacting before him and he trembled for the 
wretch in its midst. It was not that of a soul that 
went out into a glorified paradise with tender chant 
of mercy, nor yet, one that resisted not as a chill hand 


2 50 


Ondell and Dolee. 


fell on his brow in the graying of the world, one strong 
in flesh and great in desire, struggled there, with might 
and main, against a pitiless executioner and another 
looked on with the sternness of justice on her counte- 
nance. 

The light of the beacon now blazed with a greater 
splendor than it had ever known so that the hill that 
rose up before them was light as the mid-day and the 
rocking and swaying of it seemed to be stayed. Yet, 
the two spellbound spectators could not have gone for- 
ward even if they had desired to do so, for terror fixed 
them in their places and life and death hung in the 
balance. Ondell gazed upon the scene before him as 
one fascinated and his mind was so involved in all 
this, that he had no longer power to think of it. 

In this place, he had grown to manhood, in this 
place, his mind had come to all its peculiarities, here, 
he had been haunted by the mysteries, here, he had 
dreamed of love and here, also, he had spent hours of 
loneliness and of sorrow, because his dreams had not 
come true, — because a great riddle, that by the deepest 
power of his mind, he had tried to solve, had brought 
him but unrest, because, he was a poor creature of 
doubt that had become unhappy in the keenness of his 
intellect, there was such a thing as a sensation of in- 
telligence and it had wearied his brain. 

As he thought of all these things, for in the momen- 
tary calmness that had come upon the scene before him, 
his turbulent brain had set to racking, he became agi- 
tated and that dim insanity, or that, fixation of atten- 
tion that led to it, brooded within him and seemed 


Death and Dawning. 


2 5 r 


to have almost come to its climax, uncertainty over- 
came him then, so that he saw but vaguely what was 
passing, he seemed as if transported to another state 
of existence, yet, he resolutely forced himself to re- 
member that this was not a picture from some secret 
place in hell, that it was but a scene from one of earth’s 
many calamities and that it would soon pass away. 

Then his mind cleared again and he wondered at 
the intellectual fainting that had passed. He could see 
Tanton, his companion’s arm reposed in his, surely, he 
stood in the midst of a dream and all as unreal as a 
dream. There were others then that he saw walking 
beside Tanton on the roof of the house, indeed, were 
not these familiar faces and forms that he had often 
seen in Cavern Hall, when the deep, lingering trance 
had fallen upon him ? Had their day of freedom come 
also? He shook himself, pulled his hair to make sure 
that he had his senses, his companion tugged at his 
sleeve and looked at him inquiringly. He roused him- 
self then, for he must not, at this critical moment give 
way to any weakness. 

The turbulence of the earth having come to rest, 
Tanton too, had ceased his desperate struggle and 
stood still and then folded his hands across his breast. 
Ondell wondered if he saw the ghostly forms that 
stole about him, did Dolee see them? Undoubtedly 
they must see them and he fell to wondering what 
they thought of them. Now, it seemed that a new and 
different influence had come upon them all and every- 
thing around them assumed a weird, mysterious color 
like that of a dim, phosphorescent shadow and so lurid 


252 


Ondell and Dolee. 


and ghastly a hue it made, that Ondell grew restless 
and alarmed. Tanton no longer stood still with folded 
arms silently defying the forces of nature or of an ether 
world. A frightful noise now sounded and Tanton 
startled and fled to the centre of the roof, Ondell’s limbs 
quaked and he had a thought to despise himself for his 
cowardice. Was it then true that human nature could 
not endure to behold all things ? In the noise and mo- 
mentary confusion Ondell noted that Tanton had fallen 
forward and he hoped that he was dead. He chided 
himself then for wishing him so uncharitable a thing, 
yet, indeed, death would be charity under such condi- 
tions. 

But Tanton, after a moment, slowly arose and then 
walked about again as one dazed and weak. Now, 
the swaying and rocking of the hill commenced again 
and the earth seemed to break, and from the rocks and 
from the fissures, gases rose and filled fhe air with 
creamy vapor. He felt the smothering of the damp, yet 
he believed that it would not endanger him to remain 
there and see the enactment of the end. 

He turned to his companion and she looked at him 
and repeated his name mechanically as though, she too, 
was dazed. 

“Ondell !” she said, “what is this wonderful thing ?” 

He shook his head for answer. He comprehended 
it not. But this had reassured him and he felt again 
the sense of responsibility that had entirely forsaken 
him. 

Tanton now came to the edge of the roof and peered 
down and some consciousness of his danger must have 


253 


Death and Dawning. 

come to him for he looked for an avenue of escape. 
But there was none other than to leap down into the 
courtyard where the rock of the outer wall were piled 
over in great confusion and Tanton did not think of 
it, he would chance it on the roof. 

It appeared to Ondell that Tanton did not realize 
his danger, that he believed it to be some terrible con- 
vulsion, but seemed assured that the house would 
weather the earthquake or else he had the dogged de- 
termination to remain there and toy with death. So 
he felt his way along the edge of the roof and swayed 
back and forth with the house and while this occurred 
in but few seconds, it seemed to Ondell to be as many 
hours. 

While he looked at the man on the roof in the hour 
of his earthly purgation, he that braved his great dan- 
ger or else knew it not, he felt a sympathy for him and 
a hopeless sympathy, for there was nothing that he 
could do for him. Could he have done it, he might 
have rescued him and been satisfied to leave him only 
to the mercy of his conscience, but since nothing could 
be done, he yet stood by and pitied him. 

What transpired in the mind of Dolee is conjectural. 
Whether she remembered her own child in this moment 
it would be difficult to say. The profound effect of 
the scene had unnerved her and it passed probably as 
some horrid nightmare before her. 

Then the hill became once more calm and the 
watcher on the roof stood erect and held up his head. 
If he realized death, he had more courage than Ondell 
believed that he had. Yet it seemed that he must have 


254 


Ondell and Dolee. 


realized that escape was impossible, that a leap into the 
air meant breaking and crashing of bone and body and 
if it must come, let it come as it would. The stillness 
that had supervened boded unmistakably of the final 
issue. Ondell knew that, he knew that when the gas 
passed out and the inner pressure was gone, under the 
conditions in which the huge pile stood now, that it 
must collapse and in that event Tanton could hardly 
be so fortunate as to escape. Tanton seemed to know, 
however, that he stood better chance on the roof than 
anywhere else. 

The time during which these several events transpired 
was very brief but the agony of it prolonged them im- 
measurably. Tanton now turned and looked down the 
hill where the intense white light of the beacon shone 
down as if to make out the man who stood by her. 
and it roused him for they heard his voice. 

“Ha ! See me die ! Glory in it !” They heard the 
words distinctly and they saw him hold up his hands 
as if he held a child and they understood the pan- 
tomime. 

“See me die!” shouted the frenzied man. 

“Curse you ! Curse you forever !” answered the 
woman. 

She heard his mocking laugh and then he peered 
down as if to make out the man who stood with her. 
Dolee had fallen upon her knees and covered her eyes, 
as though she prayed upon her bitter curse and as 
though her anguish, she sought to hide within herself. 
Ondell stood closer to her and felt her head against 


Death and Dawning. 255 

his knee. He saw that Tanton peered down and 
looked at him. 

'‘It is I! Ondell Urmoden!” he shouted to him. 

Again Tanton answered him with a mocking 
laugh, — he stood up then and defied them all. His 
manner was so unusual and so courageous that Ondell 
knew not what to think of him. 

At this moment, one toiled painfully up the hill be- 
hind them but they did not hear her. She carefully 
and slowly made her way and her forehead was bathed 
with blood. She had undergone one of the greatest 
experiences of her brave and sacrificing life. When 
Ondell rode away, she remained about the place and 
when she saw that some great calamity was impending, 
she had gone into the house and run like one beset 
through its many rooms until she came to one wherein 
a baby lay and cried out alone. Her mission in this 
had been one of extreme danger for even as she ran 
along, the furniture of the rooms upset, the plastering 
fell, beams were loosened and the house creaked and 
rocked as if a great storm tore around it. When at 
last, she had, in the darkness, stumbled here and there 
and had found the door, she had fallen over the rocks 
and half way down the steep incline of the rear way, 
to regain the open country. Then perhaps it had been 
the curiosity, or the fascination of the tragedy, that had 
drawn her back to witness the culmination, then she 
had seen the two who stood midway up the hill on the 
little plateau and she knew that to them, her coming 
would mean happiness. 

She came up behind them without warning and 


256 


Ondell and Dolee. 


touched Ondell on the shoulder. He turned wonder- 
ing what new mystery was this and then a joyful ex- 
clamation burst from his lips. 

“Eloine! Dolee! Look.” 

But Eloine stooped and passed into the lap of the 
kneeling mother, the burden that she had rescued at 
so great a peril and the dazed and stricken Dolee 
leaped up and clasped the child and held it on high, 
so that the light of the great beacon might shine upon 
it. 

Tan-ton saw this as she intended that he should and 
he answered her with so mocking a laugh, that Ondell 
knew then, that Tanton was a maniac and that he knew 
not what he did. Reason had departed from him. 
There was no malice in his heart, no taunt of revenge 
in his laughter, he was now and had been, perhaps for 
some time, irresponsible. Certainly, this had been an 
insane deed. This would not be revenge, unless in- 
deed, the diabolical have strange notions of revenge, 
this was mania and so wise a philosopher as Ondell 
could not momentarily find it in his heart, to bear the 
man ill will. 

"Tanton! Tanton! God forgive you!” 

“Oh my God, Tanton!” shrieked Eloine, to whom 
the realization of the identity of the watcher on the 
roof, had now come in all its force, but a merciful 
swoon came over her and Ondell stooped to lay her 
down. 

Then he again faced the awful scene. 

“Tanton!” What he intended to say was utterly 
drowned in the tremenduous din that followed. There 


Death and Dawning. 


257 


was a crashing of beams, a falling and tumbling to- 
gether of masses of stone and the earth seemed to 
sink beneath his feet. He grasped the women by each 
arm and his strength was surely that of a maniac. He 
hurriedly pulled them back and down they went to- 
gether, — down the rocky hill. He must not remain 
here. The rocks slipped from under his feet and the 
soil crumbled away as he leaped over it, carrying in 
each arm a helpless woman. In a moment they had 
regained the valley and out of breath, Ondell stopped 
and the women, both of them, had had so severe a shak- 
ing up, that the swoon and the daze had passed from 
them. As he stood there for a moment, a great con- 
vulsion shook the earth and they heard the crashing 
of the house and the falling together of the trees. 

Then all was still and dark and they all turned and 
looked behind them. They seemed to look beyond 
into the valley of the Bourbese, where the water, like 
a silver thread peacefully reposed. 

"The house is gone!” exclaimed Ondell. 

"The hill is gone!” answered Eloine, "My God, 
where is Tanton?” 

But no one could answer that. He had gone down 
with the massive wreck and even as it seemed to them, 
so it was. Into the domdaniel cavern below, into the 
blackness of the bowels of the earth, the mount and 
the Mansion of a Thousand Stairs, had gone down to- 
gether and in the place where they had fallen, the soil 
of the hill and the trees of its playground had tumbled 
after and save for the rough wreckage, they looked 
across some forty acres, where once stood a mount, 


Ondell and Dolee. 


258 

beside a peaceful little river, surmounting the hill, once 
rested a great mansion built over the mouth of a cav- 
ern. In after years, a deep hole, half filled with water, 
black and awesome, could be seen here and trees grew 
up from its sides; — it was fenced because it was dan- 
gerous and a gloomier place was this, than the Dead 
Sea. 

“What on earth has happened ?” said Ondell, though 
he well knew what had happened. That which had 
been foretold him by his father had come to pass. And 
now the night of terror had also passed. 

“It is morning,” said Dolee, plaintively. 

“Yes, it is morning, a new day comes for us,” he 
answered. 

“And the past is buried here,” said Eloine, “My 
God, have mercy upon Tanton!” 

“Yes,” said Ondell, “for me, time’s greatest hour is 
done !” 

Then the three turned sadly away and walked in the 
valley where the dim morning light pervaded. After 
walking in silence for some yards, Ondell said to 
Eloine : 

“Will you see to it that Madam Sondalere gets home 
safely ?” 

How strange it sounded to Dolee. 

“Why so?” asked Eloine. 

“I must be going now. The day comes apace, the 
people will soon come to witness this catastrophe and 
the convict must to the cover of the woods. I will 
meet you here to-night. I wish to reward you for 
services, in fact, to make it easy for you, and to- 


Death and Dawning. 


259 


morrow I will seek some other land to dwell in exile 
and dream there of one awful night and of one heart 
that loved me and when I knew it, it was but to my 
bitterness, for then I must leave her forever.” 

Dolee threw one arm around his neck as he stood 
there irresolutely and she hid her face on his breast 
and sobbed. 

“Don’t go, Ondell, don’t go. Don’t leave me!” 

“You would not see me back in the, ” 

“No, she will not,” interposed Eloine resolutely, 
“Ondell, forgive me, I was ever weak, foolish, sinful, I 
followed that poor, unfortunate man down to perdition 
and it were better for me that I had perished with him. 
Ondell, you are innocent, you are innocent, you did not 
kill Sondalere!” 

“Yes, I suppose I did. I was there, my dear, so I 
know that I did it. I would that what you say is true, 
but unfortunately, I know better.” 

“But you are innocent! Did you not see Tanton 
seize the wine glass and crush it under his foot?” 

“Why yes, what of it? It has never come into my 
mind from that hour to this.” 

“Poison lay in that glass, Ondell, poison swift and 
sure. Your timely blow had a good appearance against 
you. I stood at the back of the arborium and saw it 
all. But Ondell, you will forgive me for this, I loved 
him, he begged me, he promised me, I did wrong and 
God forgive me, I turned against you for love of Tan- 
ton, — and, oh, — I do love him !” 

Eloine broke down completely. Months of waiting 
and watching, days of despised love, hours of resistless 


i 


26 o 


Ondell and Dolee. 


conscience, moments when every known sorrow seemed 
upon her at once, these now had their culmination and 
she cried in the misery of her repentance. The awful 
scene that had just been enacted before her threw her 
emotions to the floodgate and her grief was deep and 
pitiful. 

“Come now, my brave girl, my dear Eloine, no one 
loves you more than I, you must be brave, we will all 
of us turn back and begin a nobler life.” 

“I do love him I” she sobbed, “how else could it be ! 
Have I not his son ?” 

“Ah?” asked Ondell with surprise and a few tears 
trickled down his cheek as he placed his arm around 
her and the other around Dolee and walked on down 
the valley, not caring now who came or went, nor what 
might betide him. 

“We will bear no one ill will. Suffer his child to 
come to me and for the father, who in the foolish pas- 
sions of the world, had gone to the limit of reason, let 
us cover with charity, for he knew not what he did.” 

Dolee clung to him as though she feared that all 
this was not true and that unless she held him, he 
might go from her. But no such thought entered his 
mind. The gloom, — the mystery, — the birthplace,— 
a thousand memories, had been buried from sight in 
the night and a refulgent morning had ushered in a 
new day. 


EPIGRAPH. 


Of the philosophers, each wise in his own conceit 
and after his own fashion, — one yet lived in the en- 
vironments of the flesh, the head of a simple house, 
where the son of Tanton and the son of Sondalere, 
grew up under noble teachings, where great love, 
elutriated by bitter experiences, dwelt in fullness. 

And though the mystery of the world of human 
existence deepened around him, he struggled not with 
the riddle, nor yet cared to think upon it, simple hap- 
piness, contentment, and in fact, spiritual ignorance, 
were the sole ends that he strove to attain. 




































































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